(802) 633-2384This poem was contributed by a retreatant who practiced for four weeks in the retreat cabin called Yeshe. More to come.
by Anonymous
On Retreat, for four weeks every morning
I spread sunflower seeds on the cabin porch.
For the birds; yesterday a Bluebird, or was it a Jay?
Today they’re two, what relationship do I presume?
Buddha said our presumptions are mostly wrong, as is
our view of how the world is, or how we want it to be.
The world is the world, whether we show up or not;
and trees falling in forests, don’t care who hears them.
Certainly not the self-important I, thinking that
my presence determines what was, is, or may be.
Ears hear, eyes see, brains think, and none need me.
They proceed from and recede back into Emptiness;
Emptiness, limitless potential which is their forever home.
The Bluebirds perch; but, I’m not ready for Instagram.
So now I sit, camera cocked and waiting, but why?.
the Bluebirds are present, in a photo they’ll be past;
Tilopa says, “don’t try to figure anything out.’
Tilopa says, “don’t try to make anything happen.”
Tilopa says, “let go of what has passed.”
Tilopa says, “let go of what may come. “
One can’t will the birds to pose for a photo,
Just rest, relax, be grateful they are there;
Just feed the birds, hear their chirps, see their colors,
Just watch them flying back and forth …..and smile.
Tilopa — 10th Century Indian Meditation Master