MAKE YOUR HEART IDEAL
Draw your ideal in your heart
That is in truth the highest art
Or better still,
Chisel thy heart into the form of your ideal
Else quickly ye may fall b’low lives wheel
b’cause the morrow will weed out the chaff
And turn to compost all useless stuff
A compost that’s needed only for the seeds of promise
an ideal flower for which all the low just wrong is
A tree that groweth into highest heavens
For which only suns and stars the right companions
Whose roots and crown indeed are free
Which is at once both high and deep
So set yourself then now to toil
And make well fertile your good soil
Leave not a bit of strength unused
For what is left may get abused
THE FIVE CONSTITUENTS OF BEING
MATTER
If you but seek’st enlightenment; first it’s opposite must comprehend. But what is the opposite of spirit? Tis matter whose coarseness is most vivid.
But what is matter?, we might ask. Everything, that you can grasp. Anything, that you can see, can touch, can hear, or smell, belongs indeed to matters spell. Anything solid, liquid, fiery, or moving, is matter in its forms you spooking.
But he who all these knows, indeed he knows, what to enlightenment is opposed.
Yet, if you know them to their border, and in your mind can put in order; their spell will cease to reach you then, their trouble for you will come to ‘ts end.
LIFE (and FEELING)
Next we have the life, that ‘s more than matter. That, if compared, is refined and better. Be’t plant, polyp, giraffe, or man, the life within is all the same. Makes grow, what starts as smallest thing, takes in, excretes, and dies at end. It feels, that is it’s central mark, if you seek to explore it, here embark.
MIND
Yet higher still a thing is mind, be it cruel, or be ‘t kind. It thinks and thinks, is glad or sad, becomes enraptured or else becomes mad.
PERCEPTION
Perception still another thing, distinguishes between a cube or ring, distinguishes: tis good, tis bad; distinguishes a rat from cat.
CONSCIOUSNESS
Yet, what is it, that knows these all. Whose vision may go beyond each wall. Tis consciousness spelled out as name. And of this whole set, deserves best fame. It measures universes space, and calculates an aeons days. It knows the life without, within; can know a thought, be’t brilliant, be’t dim; can see, can know perception’s workings…and with each knowing, will be growing.
CAN DHAMMA BE HERESY?
If I’d be asked: “Dost thou believe in god, a creator?”,
I’d say to him: For you it might be odd, I’m not a traitor,
but with surety I can only say:
A god that dost create, be he imagined or be he real,
if his creations skill display,
I do not abhor, nor will I reel;
And if his creations reach some excellence greater than mine own,
he shall deserve my reverence and sure deserves renown.
But, he who rashly hopes destruction of another one’s construction,
for himself is an obstruction.
I pray: may no one heed such one’s instruction.
Furthermore, I’d be tempted saying:
“Didst I myself not have created this body of my own;
by words, by thoughts, and too by deeds, done in days bygone?”
“Tis not that I desired: “May I be human yet again”
and then a body sprouted, in mother’s belly’s den?
‘And tis not this body also, in truth, a world itself?,
peopled with a myriad lives, to each other husbands, wives,
but to me not more than cells?
And if that be admitted,
am I then not myself a god,
towards those beings that have found in me,
the host to all their lot?
SUFFERING, SEARCHING, FINDING
Unfortunate that good fate has passed
I sit, my happiness is blast
wearied that life is so unjust
that even strongest iron rust
that there is no sky without a cloud
now no mind moment left without some doubt
Mere resignation still will not do
Before I was one now I am two
I summon hope and see there she comes
sending light in the night from her suns
Seeing light, slowly my mind again becomes bright
My mind becoming bright I again feel delight
‘T wasn’t so bad after all
Before I was bend, now my stature becomes tall
What a silliness all these shifting moods
The ever changing our wit constantly eludes
But how to make our wit un-delud’
How to make sure mind won’t just now become persecut’d
as has happened so often before
Yesterday I was wise, tomorrow I might be a boor
An answer I hear in my ear
Y’ must train hard to become a great seer
A seer who comprehends the wholeness of life
Easy said, but difficult to contrive
Anyhow now I strive to accomplish the task
All the fleeting I try to unmask
All the changing I try to perceive
Giving my mind not a singular leave
And see there, the ever changing fades
Unexpected after hardships I gaze
Something underlying it all,
that’s not ruffled, yet not hard as a wall
Is it my self or is it a god?
About orthodox reproaches I care not
It is there and hence forth is my lord
Ye may reprimand me or show me the sword
Still, again back into the changing I’m forced to dive
Yet with the promise that my vision, the changing survives
Even if I ever again would fall,
the fall at most will be small
RAIN POEM
It is raining, dark it’s outside,
both at daytime, as well as at night
The darkness is earth, water the rain,
put against these two, the flame of your mind
Let your conscious mind move quickly,
where the earth’s rotation’s slow
Where time is just dragging,
depression still y’ must disavow
OH DEATH
Oh death please be my guiding light
through lives bewildering maze.
And show me where it ends at last,
that I shall’nt be surprised.
Please warn me at each turning point,
that all ways lead to thee
For him who does not know before
The risk of foolish spree
Besides, I ask imploringly,
please come to my advice
When I begin activities
that rob my mind its spice
Then too I hope I’m not alone
when old age lasts too long
At last I wish I’ve trained enough
that I have thee outgrown
ONCE UPON A TIME
Once upon a time,
someone came to be,
and as he arose,
he soon began to see
His eyes saw good things,
but bad things they saw too
to the good he became a slave,
to the bad an enemy
Then spoke to him a wise one,
If you seekest to conquer life,
another way embark upon,
for better things please strive
That made the other thoughtful.
Indeed, it is my lot,
that outer things, do enter me
and pull me back and forth.
That made him slightly worried.
Perhaps indeed I’m here quiet follied
But how to search for better things,
where are there truely living kings?
Thus searchingly he starts,
to look for higher truths.
At first it was around
and then it was in books.
And as he studied thus,
understanding came to be.
Which gave him certain powers,
to look at life more clearly.
Looking at life anew
His wisdom slowly grew
Thus slave he ceased to be
Nor was he enemy
A balancer of life
He gave up personal strive
Found sorrow come to ‘ts end
Illusion’s veil was rent
The silent room
Alone I sit in my little room
In one corner my bed
In one corner the broom
Here I live, day in and day out
Make myself happy
From my mind remove clouds
What joys and what sorrows
I have lived here through
What heavenly flights
My demons I faced too
All in the end for wisdoms sake
Eternal knowledge is on the stake
It is undying purity that I crave
I hope to accomplish it before the grave
