Turning Word

 

“

“Ah, the emptiness of the great blue sky,

The flowing of the vast ocean.

I have not yet attained these utmost depths…”

12th century Chinese Zen apprentice

The wave the turning word

Of a koan

On which the wind and sky pivot

In the Ten Directions

Throughout the Ten Ages.

 

What the wave points to!

What the wind and sky dance upon!

 

The wave breaks-

The subtle Dharma Gate

Opens.

The wave spills-

The subtle Dharma Eye

Expands. 

Tathata.  

 

It is unusual for me to provide notes to my work, but I thought that in this instance it was appropriate given the use of Buddhist terminology that might be foreign to the reader. They are, of course, longer than the poem.

Turning word; a word or phrase that ignites insight into a koan. One may have encountered the koan many times previously, or perhaps for the first time, but on this occasion a revolution in understanding of it, and of thus the Buddha way, occurs.

The Ten Ages are: the Past within the Past, the Past within the Present, the Past within the Future, the Present within the Past, the Present within the Present, the Present within the Future, the Future within the Past, the Future within the Present, the Future within the Future, and Now.

A Dharma Gate; a place to enter a fresh and broader understanding of life, a more authentic one freed from previous delusion.. 

The Dharma Eye; one gains a glimpse of life's dream-likeness, its unsubstantiality in the moment, that is, its emptiness.. It is after this apprehension of emptiness that the Dharma Eye opens. It brings the vision that doesn't cling to the dream-like emptiness but returns to the here and now of ordinary mind and ordinary reality, which is extraordinary.  Further, the dharma eye specifically refers to the realization of Buddha's awakening that is not contained in the written words of the sutras.  

Tathata, or suchness. The true, concrete essence or nature of things before ideas or words about them. It is often best revealed in the seemingly mundane or meaningless, such as noticing the way the wind blows through a field of grass, or watching someone's face light up as they smile. 

The Wand of Time

A huge bubble

Blown from the wand

Of time,

And so many tiny bubbles, too.

You gazed at your reflection

On its rainbow surface

And watched it break

In air.

There had been someone there. 

You went clapping at the air.

Clap, clap, clapping

And the past broke,

And the future broke, too.

But the present-

That never broke

But remained forever constant,

The one thing to persistently celebrate

With all your clapping.

The mirror moment

Of these delicate spheres

The only thing that ever seemed real,

And now that you have aged and grown old

You have seen so many bubbles pop

From the wand of time-

The past a dream and the future, too.

But in this present moment

You are like a child on holiday

From some timeless realm that awaits you,

And you clap yet after all these bubbles

Blown by the wand of time.