More Haiku, #4

We're in a kind of nether region, a bardo if you like, between being here and now anticipating leaving. This happens each time we come here. A sadness is part of the emotional mix now. While it took longer than usual for both of us to feel "arrived", causing some discomfort, some doubt, we did arrive at last and were able to enter the realm of sacred Sherabling again. Now, with Tai Situ's teachings on the very near horizon, our departure time is just beyond that, also on the nearer horizon, and of course there's that deep part of both of us that doesn't want to leave a heart home. We will leave, and we know we need to leave. The "real" world awaits. Ahh.

Also, the theme of the broken heart, the continuing pain related to the specific current horrors in Israel as well as the  madness possessing the American political and social milieu is part of this mix. Divisiveness, hatred, hostility, violence, trauma, seem to be gripping the world at large in renewed intensity, no end in sight, no evolution (on a large scale, on the political stage) beyond the basest drives and instincts and beliefs that humans are and have always been capable of. 

Kali Yuga thrives. The realities of climate collapse including the collapse of social, ethical, economic and political structures related to that catastrophic process are revealing themselves in these ways. We carry on, largely in denial, largely unmindful of the emotional and spiritual effects of all this. It's all just too much, and yet we delude ourselves into believing that the easy way out is through ignorance. All too human, we are, after all. And not in the best sense.

So, some reflections on our return, to the West, to America, to the heights and to the depths of de facto madness. Whatever human nonsense exists here, as it does everywhere, there is still the felt, experienced, ordinary ancient truth of a deep understanding of and relationship with reality, with sanity, that, in spite of the objections and denials of some, is largely lost, or overshadowed, or buried, or perverted, at home. We will miss it. Ahh.

Sonu

Circle of mantras

chanting and gossip droning

moving swirl of death

We watch ourselves age

with funny sad stories

accepting what is

Sunrise morning chill

surrounds the cremation grounds

prayers and flames rise up

Goats and sheep possess the road

Flowers bloom at night

bursting in silent beauty

under the radar

Strong fatigue zaps me

so much energy around

owls perch in sunlight

We all seek the light

yet get trapped in suffering

and round the world turns

Watching petty thoughts

and all the stories attached.

Monkeys screech, aware

So many cloud forms

dancing in the open sky

morphing each moment

I don't want to leave,

it is safe and simple here

parrots fly in flocks

Inter being truth,

whose somber heart do I feel?

Blurred love boundaries

I waste so much time

as if it's my destiny

to look for meaning

Last breath in shrine room

Guru present with prayers

death comes any time