~Zen Mountain~

molding your realm

proclaiming more than
who you are in this space
takes imagination :rose:
 
free space

arctic-stranger said:
but who i am is
not a matter of space
but imagination


imagination seeks
life’s dimensional highway
finding each crossroad
 
the tought that I had is gone
and the world know not
that I had a thought
for sand and stone
have no imagination
nor feelings
for when you bleed
and drops fall to the earth
the sol no not that it is wet
I feel for it!
 
I must confess

arctic-stranger said:
Roads cross where we are
for each step is a cross
and every pause a road.

am humbled by your vision....

perpetuity
in three dimension hold us
dancing in its light

~blue~
 
Three Gates of Tosotsu
Three Gates of Tosotsu


Tosotsu built three barriers and made the monks pass through them. The first barrier is studying Zen. In studying Zen the aim is to see one's true nature. Now where is your true nature?


Secondly, when one realizes his own true nature he will be free from birth and death. Now when you shut the light from your eyes and become a corpse, how can you free yourself?


Thirdly, if you free yourself from birth and death, you should know where you are. Now your body, separates into the four elements. Where are you?


Mumon's comments: Whoever can pass these three barriers will be master wherever he stands.Whatever happens about him he will turn into Zen.
Otherwise he will be living on poor food and not enough of that to satisfy himself.



An instant realization sees endless time.
Endless time is as one moment.
When one comprehends the endless moment
He realizes the person who is seeing it.
 
my own little zen thought of the day............

Wink of a moment
Contemporary stardust
Banish your limits


Happy Friday..
Du~
 
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brush stokes leave a trail of paint
which we can see as words,
mistaking paint on the page for reality.

No Mind sees brush strokes
pretty swirls on a page,
they are reality,
and their reality
does not become
a barrier.

So No Mind see words as words
and Trees as Trees.
 
mindspeak

Each stroke of a word
To ,fro, without , within

Enticing us all into its flow

Habitat painted on many pages
and we all win or loose
as we choose
bound to our singularites
blind to the event horizon
 
one more and fishin' calls

Shrouded by silence
Why am I left here in this
palace of void
Knowing only the beating
of my singular heart
etched in
echos of a soul
afire for the comfort
of a songbird

sorry I don't have time more time to interact...but,, I enjoy much of this site and what I read...be blessed/blue :rose:
 
I try hard not to think,
but then i am trying;
so i just think
and nothing comes.

I grasp hard at No Mind,
but my hands are always empty.
I let go and empty my hands
and No Mind is my friend.
 
arctic-stranger said:
I try hard not to think,
but then i am trying;
so i just think
and nothing comes.

I grasp hard at No Mind,
but my hands are always empty.
I let go and empty my hands
and No Mind is my friend.

My hands hold the burden
of my minds thoughts
when they should flow
like water through the fingers
as I cast a thought
the heart beat brings another
to direct these images
would only be a dream
for focuss is not always in the eyes
 
The mind is like a temple
and every thought a different room
in every room a different time frame
past, present and future
here and now
 
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Czeslaw Milosz

If you have read any of my poems you will understand why I was so drawn to this poet and his work from Second Space...

From :
Treatise on Theology

2. A Poet Who Was Baptized

A poet who was baptized
in the country church of a Catholic parish
encounted difficulties
with his fellow believers.

He tried to guess what was going on in thier heads.
He suspected an inverterate lesion of humilation
which had issued in this compensatory tribal rite.
And yet each one of them carried his or her own fate.

The opposition, I versus they, seemed immoral.

It meant I considered myself better than they were.

It was easier to repeat the prayers in English
at the Church of the St. Mary Magdalene in Berkley.

Once, driving on the freeway and coming to a fork
where on lane leads to San Francisco, one to Sacramento,

He thought that one day he would need to write a theological
treatise
to redeem himself from the sin of pride.

Second Space
Czeslaw Milosz
page 47-48

hope you liked it... a wee bit off of zen.. but not really...........
love to complicate simplicity
Du~ :catroar:
 
good/bad does not exist until we bring it here!!!

templeminded said:
The mind is like a temple
and every thought a different room
in every room a different time frame
past, present and future
here and now

thoughts breed upon breath
tuning to your frequency
you change each channel :rose:
 
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