One drop
of last night’s rain
rolls from leaf
to spider strand
faintly sways
reflects the world
falls again returns
sun-rimmed dragonfly
touches down
white-winged moth
bare knee brushed
by a passing cat.
Distant hammer rings
and a Song Sparrow sings.
This morning walking around the pond in our backyard, this post from April 2012 came to mind.
“Everything at rest, dusk: a bird calls,Â
returning to its forest home. Chanting,
I settle into my breath. Somehow, on thisÂ
east veranda, I’ve found my life again.”
T’ao Ch’ien,
(from Mountain Home, The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China, translated by David Hinton)
This is probably my favourite book of poetry and though I’ve read the quoted lines many times, they never resonated as deeply as recently. It’s very true that I have found my life again, but what draws me especially is, “Chanting, I settle into my breath.” Not just the idea of the chant but how comfortable and casually it fits into T’ao Ch’ien’s life and moment.
About 25 years ago I took a book of mantras out of the Thunder Bay Library, thinking it might provide some tools for meditation. As it turned out, mantras were never going to play much of role in my practice. However, “Om mani padme hum” found its way into my life, coming and going over the years. It was one of three notes taped to various workstation walls. “Work hard and relax” and “Be still and know that I am God” being the other two.
After several years, when I’d forgotten about Om mani padme hum, I found “Foundations of Tibetan Mysticism” in a used bookstore. The entire book turned out to be a study of this mantra! So it arrived for another, longer visit. To be forgotten again… until now.
While the mantra sounds lovely, as a poet, storyteller and spiritual guy, the magic is in the meaning. Don’t quote me, but what I remember these 6 syllables to represent is the journey of the lotus. Born in the black mud of the swamp, the lotus makes it’s way through silence and darkness to ever increasing light, ultimately to rise above the surface and blossom into a vision of splendor. No wonder the lotus is such an important Buddhist symbol.
So anyway, yesterday driving to a business meeting in Halifax, for awhile I stopped the churning of thought and chanted instead. Easy words. This morning, “Om mani padme hum” was on my breath, mingling with the wind as we crossed the dam.
That we are streams of being
tap-rooted into origins, infinite
and abundant, makes sense to me.
Sunlight, water and seed.
Divine blood coursing through our veins,
yet so often the “but”.
Some little darkness squatting
just below wisdom, whispering us blind;
sharpening scissors and worshiping names.
Sometimes these days I miss writing; especially for the way it helps me to see and understand the poetics of the world’s unfolding. Every now and then I make a few notes and sooner or later (as falling leaves spiral into snowflakes) I’ll get back to it. I always do.
In the meantime… a couple of months ago I bought myself a camera for photographing birds.
I had no idea how much fun, or how passionately I would enter the life of birds. Below are a few of my favourite moments.
Conversation (Canada Geese)
Dance (Yellow Shafted Flickers)
Flight (Bald Eagle, Cormorant, Blue Heron,)
Life on leaf and limb (Red-Eyed Vireo, European Starling, Common Yellowthroat)
Working Parents (Junco, Yellow Warbler, Red-Winged Blackbird)
And babies (Cedar Waxwing, Common Grackle, American Robin)
Dancing on Frozen Beaver Ponds 