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?

~


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