Buseoksa Moon South Korea

Enough meditation, three a.m. earbuds Dream # 9
reading Merton’s Seven Story Mountain in stillness,
the temple bell shakes the universe, calling monks
to save all beings in hell, a cock crows in darkness.
A half moon spins the stars in a black pool forming
on land in sea the spirit dance unfolding nonetheless.
Do not count the cost, no one, nothing is ever lost.

In fitful sleep I wake to the apple autumn morning
dressing herself in crimson, grey, brown and gold.
There’s a bus to nowhere, somewhere I think home.
I feel the half moon human mind moving to fullness
asking clearly, “Will you stay with the solemn monks
Or return to mad electric nights of paradise in Seoul?”
Sleep walking dreamer that I am, I hesitate, can’t wait

To go back to a circle of friends, lovers I know, my bed
a dream-pond of incarnadine leaves sinking to rest,
the bell is tolling, calling, shaking me awake, I think
but it’s just the glaring city moon tapping on a window.

 

 

Rayn Roberts 2019

 

Rayn Roberts 2019

 

Korean Buddhism
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SXf_V18wQUhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SXf_V18wQU

Buesok Temple
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWpX6Rf_JuY&spfreload=1

“Dream #9” is the song by John Lennon

 

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How Mind Moves

The splash of water on rocks

at the high end

vibrations move, ripple the surface
but not the sweet calm
a center of lotus and lily pads
like a quiet deep of sea —
But water arrives by many ways
to be a pond: fed by mountain-top rain
seeping to a circle of stone
where deer drink
turtles sun and dream white and gold
orange and black koi
rising and falling like ideas
frogs in a daze
noon only a notion here, and slowly
at low end, the water flows out
mind twisting through pines
senses thought concept reason time
enter the high end noisy waves

leave the low, fulfillment

running to the sea

cropped-cropped-dsc0045111 Photo by Tom Gable Nature Photographer

Poets & Writers

Before The Typhoon

I am as well alone as not, still the boss’s tiny daughter
Takes my hand at work saying, “Don’t go home alone.
It’s not good to be alone.” I reassure her, “I’ll be alright.”
At home I’m fine and well, but I cannot turn a deaf ear

Small sounds fill the air, a child cries without comfort
A dog howls, will not be still, gears grumble, wheels go on
A drunk vomits in the street as hard rain begins in the dark–
Beyond fatigue, I tire of the world, old, new, alone or not

There’s as much suffering as ever and it cannot be said enough
We all have a part in it, I’m never at home with that, listen
A gust brings down a billboard, there are groans in thunder
Moans in a mountain landslide, floods, there are tears in things.

The wind carries the sobs of that child to every room in my house.

 

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Rayn Roberts
Jeju Island, Korea

The Ears of Seongjin Castle

In the last light of March, under cherry trees as large as the oak
Near the tomb of those lost
in the battle of Seongjin Castle, yet another tale
of the cruelty and kindness of men…

The Japanese hacked off the noses and ears of the dead
took them home, proof a battle won, souvenirs of a war.
The Koreans buried fathers and sons in a common grave and mourned.

Years later, a Buddhist monk went to Japan
Pleaded for the return of the remains–
Ten thousand ears heard him, ten thousand eyes saw him
On Heart of Love opened, Om Mani Padme Hum–

Japan relented and gave them back–
Under a large tree, in a snow of blossoms, the story teller, a Korean friend
Looked at me and said, “Only the oldest trees know the sorrow of the blossoms.

 

Rayn Roberts 2002

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Traditionally, Japanese warriors brought back the heads of enemies slain on the battlefield as proof of their deeds. Ear collection in lieu of heads became a feature of the second Korean invasion.[4]:p. 195 [10] Remuneration was paid to soldiers by their daimyō commanders based on the severed heads upon submission to collection stations, where inspectors meticulously counted, recorded, salted and packed the noses bound for Japan.[11][12] However, because of the number of civilians killed along with soldiers, and crowded conditions on the ships that transported troops, it was far easier to just bring back ears instead of whole heads.[10]

Japanese chroniclers on the second invading campaign mention that the ears hacked off the faces of the massacred were also of ordinary civilians[13] mostly in the provinces Gyeongsang (where Seongjin Fortress was located)  Jeolla, and Chungcheong.[2]:pp. 475–476 In the second invasion Hideyoshi’s orders were thus:  Mow down everyone universally, without discriminating between young and old, men and women, clergy and the laity—high ranking soldiers on the battlefield, that goes without saying, but also the hill folk, down to the poorest and meanest—and send the heads to Japan.  Many of the ears, noses and heads of the dead are now buried in Kyoto, Japan, but some were returned to Korea.  Mimizuka: Ear Tomb

Kuan Yin /  Avalokiteshvara in Tibetan, is the Bodhisattva of Great Compassion and is said to have ten thousand ears and eyes to hear and watch over the suffering people of the world.   Om Mani Padme Hum is a mantra associated with this Bodhisattva.

옴 마니 반메 훔

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Of One and Many Worlds

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Where winter ends and spring begins
white plum willow green
yellow broom
break the monotony
of brown and grey,
magnolias open like hands
asking nothing, offering all …

Beak wing and claw gather
twig cloth limb and stick
whatever warms
the magpie nestling.
In the waking hills
feral cats hunt and fatten.

A white haze of mountain sky
falls to earth
the foggy breath of an imperial dragon –
There is meaning
in every motion or change
the momentary violets pushing into light
are questions
the old trap of time letting go –

viola-selkirkii

Is the coming of joy and more pain
worth the space I take?
Is the choice free…
I don’t know, but hold as seasons
spin ’round
this eternal spring
waking a world to all that is possible

A Bodhisattva Speaks of Why The Buddhas Smile

I have been asleep ten thousand years
Here, where I live
I have been dreaming this side of a river
Where smiles are lost
The shore of a dream where now
In stillness deep
Chanting the beat of dragonfly wings
Feeling the ache
In a mariposa lily opening slowly
Know the vibration
In sunflower and sunfish asleep in water
Recording eternity
In a cricket song, I wake to Deathlessness.

And this is all there is of the moment
The red light in dawn air
Gold violet scent
At my feet and in my raven hair,
To see the world
And say to it, use my wisdom like holy water
Dip hands and heal,
By the miracle of my laughter and look
By my many births
More than the lights in a million night skies
Where I walk
No being is harmed, all
Are let be, left in perfect peace.

That is why Buddhas smile. That is the Smile

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