Sunday, February 07, 2021
TEN OLD MONK POEMS (1)
I OFFER
I offer
a plum blossom,
you want wisdom,
the old monk says.
I offer
wisdom, you don't
know what you want.
~
THE BODY IS
The body is
its own joy,
the old monk says.
Enjoy it.
~
SWEEP YOUR ROOMS
Sweep your rooms
as you must,
the old monk says.
You know they hold
your soul hostage
even as
the moon brightens
the evening silence.
~
CONTRADICTION
Contradiction
is the best teacher,
the old monk says.
That is why
I teach it.
~
NOTHING IN
Nothing in
the sound of wind
is the wind,
the old monk says.
~
AH, MOONLIGHT
Ah, moonlight
on the snow,
the old monk says.
An emptiness.
Someone waits
to give us
the poem.
~
WHEN YOU TRANSLATE
When you translate,
the old monk says,
do not translate
the words: translate
the revelation.
~
THE SCHOLARS WILL SAY
The scholars will say
what scholars say,
the old monk says.
I say, mostly
I don't care.
~
DETACHMENT IS NOT
Detachment is not
something the body does,
the old monk says.
It belongs to the hope
you have in your heart.
~
WHOEVER SPEAKS
Whoever speaks
in my poems,
the old monk says,
is not me, now,
in this moment.
How could it be?
~
