Listen, Listen
Listen, listen to the sound of the mind’s own utterance, Within the womb of the beauty of Autumn, While the setting sun shows the red glory of her smile. Hearing the bamboo flute which no one plays, Listen to the reeds swaying in the breeze, And the silent ripple’s song. The disciples debate, But never reach the ripple’s end. The teacher’s word that lies beyond the mind – Listened to, it cannot be found, And found, it still cannot be heard.
read moreBeauty Of The Heart
The beauty of the heart is the lasting beauty: its lips give to drink of the water of life. Truly it is the water, that which pours, and the one who drinks. All three become one when your talisman is shattered. That oneness you can’t know by reasoning.
read moreLet Go Of Your Worries
Let go of your worries and be completely clear-hearted, like the face of a mirror that contains no images. If you want a clear mirror, behold yourself and see the shameless truth, which the mirror reflects. If metal can be polished to a mirror-like finish, what polishing might the mirror of the heart require? Between the mirror and the heart is this single difference: the heart conceals secrets, while the mirror does not.
read moreCall Me by My True Names
Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow because even today I still arrive. Look deeply: I arrive in every second to be a bud on a spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, in order to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are alive. I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river, and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the mayfly. I...
read more
57 queries in 1,339 seconds.