As a little girl of eight or nine,
I watched as grandma hustled,
preparing holiday ritualistic dinner,
and it occurred to me thus:
If truth is everywhere, unseen,
seen with the heart,
then why are these forms necessary,
as a path to realize it?  They are not.

Kairin, I wanted you so, little unicorn figurine!
Far from my eyes you were, yet my heart
fluttered at the thought of you.
When in my hands, a young teen girl,
I looked at your form, still in my hand, and thought:
You are gone already, impermanent,
and there is no satisfaction in holding you,
so I let go.  There is no need to crave for anything
because nothing lasts, nothing truly satisfies.

When a babe was in my belly, radiant with life,
water slowly trickling down my back, I contemplated thus:
Birth is slowly approaching for this life growing within me,
such pain to come to the world, such pain to these bodies,
and what is pain?  An instant, a sensation that passes
and is no more.  No need to cling to a feeling, to fear,
for it is impermanent, temporary, and fast.
No more fear arose in this heart, not even of death.

I walked through a door and there she was, smiling,
and me, crying. As sunshine on a stormy day,
she held me, and said: “My dear, in a year we
will laugh about all this,” and she led me to peace.
It all passes, as my mother always said, often
kissing the crown of my head. It all passes.

Sitting alone at home, sadness arose, such deep
wish to be with friends.  But no one called, and I looked:
What is this burning in my heart, piercing pain in belly,
why and where does it come from?  From being alone?
No.  It comes from desire, only desire can bring such pain.
Solitude is fine, friendship is fine, but desire is not.
Craving is the source of all suffering.  Attachment to view.
Mindfulness arose then, such deep vision, that any
waves of craving, even the smallest intrusion,
was seen with precision and let go.
Little by little, the waves abated, and mind became
as still flowing water.  Seen but not disturbed.

He wrote to many, sang deeply to their hearts, and
brought smiles to their faces, wiped tears from their eyes.
I watched him from afar, for a while, and then I called.
He came as a knight, magnificent and strong, with a mighty sword,
that cut through all my delusions, even the subtlest ones.
Such potent energy that the earth felt it too,
it snowed in the tropics on the night my heart was no longer mine.
“Not me, not mine,” he said, and I saw.  There is no me nor mine.
He dances Metta and Karuna, lovingkindness and compassion for all beings,
and I dance it now too.  On an otherwise un-special day,
driving through town, seeing bodies of men and women, I thought:
They too are not their bodies, nor do they own them,
all this is just borrowed – we come to the world with nothing,
and with nothing we depart.  It was as if a heavy burden,
carried infinitely, was suddenly dropped, let go for good.
Metta and Karuna were always in my heart, but now,
they were seen with such depth as never before, clear, clean.
The knight, teacher, mirror, gladdened my heart, brought in
such brilliant light.


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