Dalai Lama - The Nobler Truths of Life

The Dalai Lama continues to laugh
addressing
a large audience.

The interpreter is super-serious
has no time for laughter
The English was like a net
the Tibetan words butterflies,
flew from the flower-petal lips of the Dalai Lama
sometimes to sit on the ears of the Tibetan kids
sometimes on the gold-flecked robes,
maybe the wedding dresses
of the Tibetan women
taken out only on special occasions
but worn away at the hems
this bit of sparkle left
like the trace of light  in aged eyes.

The Dalai Lama was expounding
the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism
He raised his arm and
like three little dots of ‘therefore’
there were the marks of childhood vaccination
peeping through his ochre robe.
They whispered:
   Aha, someone is talking about such high principles
            but is from this very world
            this very epoch
            and he’s just a  man.

Right in front of me, rapt, a grandfather
on his shoulder  a chubby little boy and his gurgling bottle
wiping his running nose
on grandpa’s sweater —
He must have been like that  —
the Dalai Lama
What do we know of Tibet  —
Rahul Sanknityayan or Rinpoches
monasteries and chow mein
cheap sweaters and sandals, China,
snow, lost eyes, round faces and faithful Lhasa Apso pups.

How do those noble truths
connect with
such random bits,
the ignoble truths of life?

Does truth too have hierarchies?
A caste system?  —
Brahmin truths at the top
and then the Shudra  truths at the bottom?

Hunger and
thirst
heat and cold
attachment and cruelties
Love and hate  —
are these truths really lower?

Dalai Lama, you tell me, please:
if the truth is like these mountain ranges —
high and low.
I prefer living in the deep cave of a small truth
occasionally coming to you
to learn the nobler truths of life.

Paw Prints from Heaven

Though you can't see me, I am always around...
Though you can't hear me, I am speaking to you...
Though you can't touch me, I am reaching for you...
The images you see, but cannot explain...
The energy you feel, but cannot see...
The love that you feel, when thinking of me...
My presence you feel, when walking outside...
My hugs remembered, never let go...
My heart that I gave you, that you now wear...
The things you are seeing, that no one can explain...
And the things that you hear, with no one around...
These gifts that I give you, are my Paw Prints from Heaven.

- Romeo

EAGLE POEM

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you
And you can't see, can't hear,
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.

...Joy Harjo

Abou Ben Adhem - written by Leigh Hunt (Classic poetry recitation by David Olney)

http://www.davidolney.com

Another classic poetry recitation from DAVID OLNEY interpreting Leigh Hunt's "Abou Ben Adhem"

Be sure to witness David Olney's presentation of Samuel Coleridge's "Kubla Kahn"; "The Rime Of the Ancient Mariner" (in seven parts!); Robert Browning's "My Last Dutchess"; ee cummings "anyone lived in a pretty how town"; Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" and other s also available on YouTube.

http://www.davidolney.com

DO WE NEED THIS KIND?

A wind of change is in the air.
Do we need this kind?
Is it really fair?
Do we really need bailouts?
Along with many, I have my doubts!

We are living in perilous times.
Too much greed, too much crimes.
Poor are poorer, rich are richer.
Are you finally getting the picture?

11 Timothy 3:1
''This know also,
that in the last days
perilous times shall come.''

But we don`t have to fear.
''And when these things begin
to come to pass; then look up,
and lift up your heads;
for your redemption draws near.''
( Luke 21:28 ) 


 By poetalthomas

Rended My Enemies

Such victory one can declare
Healing to the mind of every care.
Broken cords of entanglement
Are gone for good.

Freedom from all oppression,
Shattered depression.
Rended my enemies
In pieces!

Freedom as you go,
Rejoice for God is good.
It's grand to know
Fear not the oppression of the enemy
For it shall not stand.

Be joyful in the Lord
While He holds your hand.
Read My Word to grasp Truth
To learn I AM for you!
Forget things of old
Trust in the Truth told!


 by Anthony Reagan

Fifteen Crosses

I had a dream I was kneeling, at fifteen crosses on the hill
Not a whisper from the trees, everything was still,
I felt a sadness in my heart, an empty kind of pain,
Fifteen souls had gone away, only memories remained.
I tried to cry out to ease my grief,
Lifted my hands to heaven, prayed God's relief.
Not a sound or a word, emptiness abounds,
My sorrow overcoming, I began to drown.
Such bitter suffocation, I wish someone could hear,
Why we let this happen , in my dream nothing was clear.
I shook my fist to heaven and begged for reasons why,
But only silence spoke, offering no reply.
No sound came from my lips even as I screamed,
I prayed it's just a nightmare, an awful kind of dream.
Then I heard a choir of angels beckoning from above.
"The world is reaping hatred,"
"Because the world's not sowing love."
"You should embrace each other's differences no matter what they may be,"
"And enlighten each other with the hope of peace and unity."
When the angel finished speaking, she ended with a sigh,
Gazing down at fifteen crosses of fifteen souls who said goodbye.
Then the heavens opened up, the angels giving way,
up to the gates of heaven, Amazing grace began to play.
And as they left this Earthly realm the angels were downhearted looking
back at fifteen crosses of the recently departed.
A soft rain began falling, but no cloud was in the sky,
Then Jesus whispered to me, "This is how the angels cry."

 by Lisa Teller

My Silence

Brothers In Arms from ne033x on Vimeo.

Should I hesitate as I speak
Please don't think me preoccupied
For words don't come easily
When one really cares
And often I evaluate each word
Trying to be anyone
-- but myself
And the fear of rejection
Brings confusion
The confusion brings silence
And my heart prays
That you might hear my silence
-- and understand


-Javan