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YANG CHU‘S POEMS #318
On an autumn red-spotted leaf autumn In Mount Hakusan chilly forest far Away from people I recited aloud My poems about About the transport of the transient, How the concept of permanence is a lie. I heard the bright green tip Of new emanated pine needle applaud. Felt the pine needle’s lips kiss my cheek, Knew I had not written in vain. YANG CHU’S POEMS #317 With two Zen monks, Sat as still as stones, With me by bamboo. I, a Taoist, said, “Listen to the music Of the bamboo.” “That is Maya,” they said. I said, “Is that so.” I gazed at the wine In the hand of a man Who was surrounded By friendly gibbons, The two monks saw me Gazing, said “Wine is Maya.” I said, “Is that so.” I started staring at a girl, Long, black, glossy hair, Slender in her tight green silk kimono.” The two said, “She is Maya.” I said, “Is that so.” Years later we met, Both the monks Were called “Masters” now. They asked me what I had learned From my meditations and study of the Sutras. I replied, “Maya is maya.” “Is that so,” they both Replied in unison |
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| Duane Locke |
| Duane Locke lives in rural Lakeland, Florida, next to a sacred underground stream, thick-foliage concealed. He has a PH. D in "Metaphysical Poetry." and as of May, 2008, has had 5,971 poems published (none self-published or paid to be published)--- needs 29 to have 6,000 published. For a list of his book publications, poetry, scholarly, and philosophical works, plus other information, see the Google Search Engines. His E mail is duanelocke@gmail.com and he welcomes correspondence. |
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