Sunday April 4
*
A glimpse out
up to the steep climb
to the light of my long day
slight gentle beautiful determined bright one
firmly alone firmly herself
to quietly remind me
that not so far away
for she I we two
our warm and bright
future day
and to her then to say to tell
of a light that flickered
gold within the darkness
a glow upon the wall
of ancient rock
born at the beginning of the world
It flickered here and there
moving from one wall to the next
a sudden rush of air
it almost went out
but no ordinary flame this
for the hand which held it steady
was that of Yeshe Tsogyel
it burned sturdily through the darkened fibers
of the yak butter soaked wick
as though animated by the courage
of she who held the rough baked clay
whence came the substance of its light
worn shiny through the long hours
Yeshe Tsogyel Padmasambhava
had come to Tashidor
to rest for a time upon their
journey to bring light
to a place where forces beyond the
understanding of human mind
held their sway upon the land
filling it with peril
Out beyond the ebb and flow
of the great lake Namtso Chukmo
as the waves of its salty tides swept
to marsh and reed
to rocky shores
splashing in orderly tummult
beneath the staggering immensity
of the snow covered crags
of Nyenchen Tanglha
into blinding mountain sky
As the endless rounds of birth and death
of uncountable beings
sometimes as that of clashing arms
expended in tearing fury
sometimes with a quiet roil
as that of desperate survival
and sometimes in near silent peace
to gently touch the grains of sand
and quietly return
to the mirrored depths from whence they came
Returning to the opening
they contemplated all of this
and through the breeze that came through
sharp mountain light
came the birds
to them she sang a song
of mystery and wonder
to ease their straining hearts
then in great flocks they came
to this sacred place
and the warm benificence
of her gentle smile
Look beautiful one
there are two great rock columns here
built as in homage
to these compassionate ones
by those who followed
for whom even the smallest creature
is of infinite worth
its life to be spared
its suffering to be eased
through steadfast cultivation
of creative mind
And to this place flocks of birds come still
though the world is still the same
as the waves of Namtso Chukmo
the endless rounds of existence
filled with clamor and with strife
pain and wonder the struggle
of immortal souls
living mortal life
still wash upon the rocky shores
of eternity
All this not so wonderful
to my straining eyes
as your determined beauty
and uplifted gentle dignity
that endures with patient grace
this that I see in you
beneath the open sky
on this cold morn
early in our spring of working and waiting
Lotus blossoms rest
upon the window sill
and so we wait
two as one
we our effort
real and lasting
slight gentle
beautiful one
April 1
* courtesy of A Luminous Diamond (Bright) Crystal Show productions.
reference material for the poem is courtesy of the Footprint Tibet handbook by Gyurme Dorje.