the end of a story

The end of a story

A story had come to an end

Trains of thought passed by
a station where they no longer stopped,
a place from which they were silently observed,
a wellspring of stillness

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Wanderers on their way
somewhere,
nowhere,
sometimes paused
the mind trip they were on,
set their baggage down
and sat
on the platform
in the stillness
for a while

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And when they continued,
calm and clear,
down the tracks,
it no longer mattered
where they went
or whether they went at all

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eine japanische stimmung

Eine japanische Stimmung

Die alte Stimmung war schon schön,
aber es war Zeit
für eine Veränderung

Hokkaido hieß die Tonleiter vom November,
und Hirajoshi hieß die vom Dezember,
beides japanishe Variationen
von B moll

Die neuen Kalimbas waren alle so gestimmt,
und mit der neuen Stimmung kamen neue Melodien
und stillende Musik

♫ ♫ ♫

Und still war es
um das Abendfeuer herum,
wie die Farmbewohner saßen
und nicht dachten

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Und ab und zu ist ein sanfter Ton,
eine allein tanzende Note,
durch die Nacht geflogen,
um die anderen einzuladen
ihre Kalimbas aufzuheben
und ein neues Lied hervorzurufen,
langsam,
jeder
auf einer wiederholenden Weise
ein paar Noten hinzufügend

♫ ♫ ♫

b minor

B minor

The farm dwellers sometimes sat
on comfortable straw mats
around a low fire in the evening,
enjoying the stillness,
the space between thoughts

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And now and then together they would play
in harmony
on some homemade kalimbas that were lying around,
each tuned to a variation
of B minor,
while some frogs in a nearby paddy sang

A song had come to be one evening
early in November,
and each night it flowed
in a slightly different way,
slowly, gently
and quietly

♫ ♫ ♫

who are you?

Who are you?

A thought,
a wave
in the Sea of Love
I am
That
from which consciousness flows:
Awareness,
the stage upon which
the divine play appears
to be

Enjoying the show,
being the flow
of actors and actresses
coming and going,
entertaining
themselves
now,
always now,
no future, no past:
flowing Now

While beyond experience
nothing but
Awareness,
silent and still

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solitary

Solitary

Khao Niao lay still
on a patch of grass near her home

Her friends Peter and Mo Ping were gone,
and the dogs down the lane were a bit unfriendly,

but she howled along
with all the others in the neighborhood
each night once or twice,
whenever another began,

♫ ♫ ♫

and she was fine
alone

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Quietly observing
and listening,

now and then going
on a walk around her garden,

sometimes eating a bit from her bowl,

and otherwise doing
nothing at all

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Well connected with all around,
she flowed,

unbothered by innumerable thoughts
she simply was,
an expression of consciousness,
the Sea of Love

along with all the other beings

♫ ♫ ♫

Older now and letting go
slowly,
identity slipping away
and leaving only That behind

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