A Few Favourites36 selected poems

by Ajahn Kalyano

Back to the sourceOf purest heartwood

A fondness

As I see Just how ethereal the world can beThere arises, spontaneously, a small fondness That flows just like the light that ripples In this small pondness

Freed of meaningThe page

Is as free as the Sage

The sage page

and the freesun and sea

can ripple the sky

and we may flyinto a heaven like silk

as white as milkbefore we die

Time passes with the river's flowTime is never fast or slowTo the child that sleeps with the buffaloBeneath the weeping willow

And there is as yet no thanksFor the shady riverbanksIn the heart of the childSo humble and mildSo there is never a curseWhen the times they go,With the flow,From bad to worse.

Such is the holy presenceOf purity, of innocenceThat may follow the heartThrough the sacred artOf patience.

The sacred art of patience

It seems that simple evaporationOccurs through the transformation

Of time into space

One wonders if this is the intervention of graceDoesn't One?

Further, is this perhaps the alchemy of the breathThat takes the mind beyond death?

Thermodynamics

Seeking to stop the empty storyOf all the glory From spiralling on and on, The end,My friend,Not wanting to be contrary,Was bound to be small and ordinary

And to prevent the heart from leaning

There would be some effort to avoid any meaning.

Bound to be small and ordinary

The modern world

As for the modern worldInto which their desire had been hurledThey truly feltThat no matter how it smeltThey could settleAnd enjoy the finish of its polished metal

It somehow glorifiesEven the greatest of liesDoesn't it, petal?

cool dude how I wish you could live forever

If a man aligns himself with the ways of natureIt seems that nature When it can Aligns itself with the manIn a sweet little gesture

Harmony

Fallen Leaf

in the cool water is the skylike the open mindcatching the leaf falling

it is as if his heart is reflected upwardsreleased by the signof impermanence

And the leaf Is to add to the water’s lifeIt is as if it were first the daughter Then the wife

and when the water, the heart and the leaf were Onenothing was ever donenothing was ever said nothing was ever alive or dead

Is death so against the grain?Or is pain?

Or can we accommodateOur fateWithout hate

With a moment of artStraight from the heart

Against the grain

Between, between, between

Between fast and slowAt a new pace

Between outer and innerIn a new place

Between brother and sisterShowing a new face

So freely the heart shall flowAs open as a summer meadowBetween, between, between

Between higher and lowerWith a new taste

Between innocence and graceBathed in a new light

Between time and spaceEndowed with fresh sight

Seeing as far as one can seeAs open as the sea

Between, between, between

Slipping betweenSlipping freeYou and me.

Let me love youLove you to death

Praise youAnd raise youTo the skies

Until you are full of shameOver all the lies

And die beneath a cloud of blameFor being too real

And feeling how you bloody well feel

Let me love you

As generations grieve the pastTime's monstrous shadow is cast

Yet as generations form the groundThe path can be found

Ground and path

Touching the feeble airOf the feeble breathHere I stand In the shadow of death

Here I stand In the air In the air that doesn't careNever to landIn the shadow of death

In the shadow of death

'Dear Mary, May you live forever,Perfectly cast?

With the sky above you,Dear Mary, May I love you,At last?

May you be my sisterJust as I have missed her From the past?

May I pass humbly beneath your feet?Loving you with all my heartWe need never meetSo that we need never part.'

Dear Mary

Buds of May

Let us pray For a fresh start

For the heart Like these darling buds of May

Every single day

Between the glint of an eyeAnd the hint of a sigh

Between the smile And the desperate plea

Between the nurturing fieldAnd the freedom of the sea

Between Between Between

Between

Hands

The hand, made of sandHaving felt its wayUp the hand railUp the hand railHas arrived on deck

'All hands on deck,' says the hand.

'Quick, time is running out.'

Come on a good day To say thank you with flowers

She will be pleased for you.

Come on a bad dayTo say sorry, with flowers

She is sure to forgive.

Come any day.

Any day

There was a weird silenceIt was he fearedHis world had been smeared with violence,Blurred and blood-stained,That had remained.

Looks, fearful and painedMarred and moodyDivided kith and kin.

It had got under their skinNot so deepYet deep enoughIn weals and rutsAs rough as gutsFull of foul mudAnd all that was feltWas the sickening thudOf sadnessAfter all the madness.

It would be so hard, for heaven's sake,For the him not to repeat the mistake

And fight his way out of the mudShedding more sacred blood.

In the MONASTERY

The bones had been placedIn this blessed placeOut of worldly haste

As a peaceful reminderNever kinder

For me to find and reflect...

Then one evening I looked at my glassesSat on the table

The candle burning...

In the present moment(Although I was still perfectly able)

The scene seemed like history, already turning...

Looking back it was clearMy dearest dear

That time had stood still

With a calming of the willIn softest breath and silent muse...

Also sitting there my old shoesHad seemed as though desertedAs if left there after my death.

I was not disconcerted.My attention was drawn again to my breath

And assured me that although it seemedThat in some way I had passed awayThe body was still functioning ok...

It was not then as though I was in any hurry to die.I was at peace, though I knew not why.

To the body I just felt tiedLike to a life-long bride.

There was much to be learnedBut I was keen to avoid getting burned

By passions that robbed the mindOf its new study of history, calm and kind,

In this eternal presentThat came uninvited

Yet was so strangely pleasant...

Then one evening I looked at the fireSo pretty are the warming flames of the hearth

On a cold night they seem beyond worthBut how beautiful are the cremation flames

That takes away our brothers

And are these not the same flamesAs the others?

Perhaps if the fire is not touched there is no painBut perhaps a loss well borne the spirit tamesThen, perhaps, the shroud is not worn in vain

For then, perhaps our spirit will be with itselfAnd that of our brotherRather than with desire

And we may see that the spiritWas never touched by the fire.

Then, perhaps, if we are wiseWe may see that the spirit

Was not warmed by the hearth eitherIt was just the eyes of the survivor

That valued the warmth of the fire so muchNext time we will know

It's just the body that is warmedAnd our heart will not be swarmed

By cravings army, as beforeWhen the fire goes out

Giving himself airsClimbing the stairs

Of the factsThat remain abstractThey are no miracle

For as the paper shall crinkleThey will make their mark

So dark

Conceit

Homely shrine

Far from homeThe homely shrine

Theirs and also mineWith food for the LordWho is surely replete.

I am also given more foodThan I could ever eat

Mixed messagesCarried lovingly through the ages

Far from home.

On the threshold

On the thresholdSo familiar, so oldSeeking to be bold

The seeking a maskTo the remaining taskThat is not a taskBut a coming togetherAt the very end of the tether

The tether that will no longer holdThe blissful soul, That becomes whole.

For the mask falls awayAt the natural end of the playFlagged by the stone floorOn both sides of the doorSwept as we weptNo more

At the core

Right at the very coreNo less, no moreLies the seedNot early nor lateIt need not pleadBut merely waitFor soil and sun

Not yet begunNor at the endThe seed, we have seenIs at peace, my friendBetween, between, between

ADVERTISING

Human being seeks nothing

A well-seasoned humanAware that his existence

Is a mere rumourAnd who may thus overcome any resistance

With naturalized humourSeeks little more

Than a tiny roof with a tiny floorIn which to keep both his peace and yours

A peace that you share

If you dare

For as you rest in his easeAs warm as the the damp hay

For as long as you pleaseHe may take your very existence away

But please don't fearOr shed a tear

You will never dieI tell no lie

You won't even be boredHe ain't no crusty relic

He is our living LordAnd His life is simply psychedelic

There was something about itThis brand new toilet...

Before it had all begunAnd he was forced to runBefore the humble clownHad sat there with its trousers downBefore, before, before

There was a lightAs white as whiteAs bright as brightOh, so bright did it shineYet it was not me or mineOh, so bright did it shineWithout grief

Oh, so bright did it shineWith relief

And this promise that came beforeCould, perhaps, be the promise for ever more Yes, there was something about itThis brand new toilet...

I will make it shineNot for its sake but for mineThis brand new toilet...

Before

In the autumn of lifeAfter the wife

After the childMeek and mildTrust, trust the rust collector

Trust the keeper of bonesAnd faded blue tonesTrust the cool Keeper of the Rule Which shall remainBeyond the painUnchallenged

The rust collector

The Sabbath veilsThe good that pales

Even virtue cannot make goodThat which, by its natureFails to lastIts shadow already castIn this world of form.

Even virtueCan only hold so muchOut of greedy touchAnd only for so long.Even the beguiling songOf the heavenly lyreWill eventually tireThe soul.

Yet, Lord willing,This truth is not spine chillingBut, like a tonic wine, chilledMay take us beyond harmTo a place cool and calm.To a time before the shadow is castWhere virtue will lastBuilt upon dispassion.

The Sabbath veils

A place where virtue is not following memory's fashion,But a fashion whose new desires would change

The ageless pagesFor a brand new range.

The lost sock

Who shall it mockThe baby's lost sock

From its dirty place on the groundForlorn, unfound

For it is not beyond grace.

Indeed the heart's space Gathers in that place

Where the suffering of mothers, too youngWaits to be sung.

It will be sung by granny's loveFrom up above

As she knits another.

It will be sung by granny And by granny's mother

And so the song may climbBack through time

To the sourceWhich of course

Need never rise above The horizons of the simplest love

Love ever more vastFrom whence no shadow is cast.

The star is cast for the showAnd cast like a diceIs the shadowCast out so far

So farThe chocolate-box starsAnd the stars within the starsSo farTrapped in their wrappings,Lost in their trappingsSo farLost to you and ITo the inner eyeLike the joy of the toyIs, so far, lost to the big boy

Not with hatred or sorrowNot for the sake of tomorrow

Stars within stars

But for a greater joy

For freedom

The only real freedom

Freedom from desire

Desire, the swirling ball of fireThat we take to be our lifeWhen it is our greatest strife

And do not mourn for the starIt will shine anew, like the sun.When our work is doneAnd the heart is at OneIt will shine,Shine to the Child of the Universe

Over the years of outer dispassionTime awoke the dreamy eyeAs it was seen passing by.The drifting cloud and shifting sandsTook away passion's hands. They were drawn,Behind nature's lawn,To the heart's bounteous tree To fruit as free and funAs the ripening sun.

From such inner summerTruth may gather lightSteady and bright To a penetrating gazeOut of sleep's swirling haze.

So the smile was taken deeperThan the roots of that creeper To wait in the calm earth of autumnFor the gentlest sign of cautionThe falling leafNatural ending, without grief.

Over the years

But how can the leaf be caught Without the hands of thought?

Only reflected in the still poolCalm and coolOnly in the silent eyeThat doesn't cryFree of flowing tearOr rippling fear

There shape and colour

Do not charm desireInstead our honourPrecedes the fireAnd new meaningDancing and gleamingMay reverse the trammelsThe passions of us little mammals

The kiss of death

The one kissWe cannot missIs the sad kiss of deathBy nature impassively dealtTo the blameless body.Let's wonder how it may be felt

Why go downSinking...sinking...Ain't it like going down in the sub?Glub, glub, glubWith the crew, crew, smelly as poohThat grub, grub, grub?

Keep raising it upSinging, singingKeep raising it upLove, love, loveCooing, cooingDove, dove, dove.

CATHARSIS

Now in the lightWe see our faultAs it bucks like an unbroken coltTaking a step back from our objects of desireTo see the danger of eyes of fire For when, as asleep,As the creepers creepHis eyes puckered He was so easily suckered. There was no truth He couldn't miss In their dreamy kiss.

Neither could he hold His silly old eyes, so bold In a more proper placeOn his simple faceNor balance them on his noseAnd leave his fingers freeTo properly count his toes.

For sleepy smells were spells Dreams of them there hillsEchoed behind by wellsOf history's tears.

Feeling, in haste, forgets spaceThinking forgets weightRemembering brings hate.As desire comes back Into realityIt scapegoats the innocent body….

The soaring bird Of love’s replyIs not a wordYet something is heardFrom within,

Mild as a childWhose innocence is freeNot feeling like you or meNot a fact or act.This innocence is the bodyIt is as though we step back From our dreamy romanceTo see the skid-mark on our underpantsTo the body's sobering earth.

And as the mild Sunday child Greets the humblest bitHis humble feet

His sure, silent feet His magic toes as light as flowersOutruns the tragic flow of hoursThat run toward the dead.And nothing needed to be said.

For the monkey-body is no junkyThe pain runs off the counterpaneJust as rain runs off the windowsillWhere moss and lichen drink their fill.Inside, safe and dryIt seems not that the windows cryNor that the view that thought forever soughtThrough the glass of name and classNeeds to be perfectly clear.

And clearly need not be clearOf the feelingOf a pure, rinsing tear.

And nothing needed to be saidEven to the dead.

Luang Por O'Part

Orange robe and piercing eyesHe is our Lord's tiger in slim disguise.

On your passions he will spitWith his charm and wit

Until you can seeAnd humbly agree

To fight until the last breathTo find the way beyond death.

Luang Por Ben

He could roast your faults alive Deep in the calm of his old eyes

With perfect disdainBut without any pain

On either side.

Tributes

Ajahn Anan

So present yet nowhere to be found So soft yet as firm as the ground

Bright and stillYet as light and swift as air

He unlocksWith his radiant paradoxThe door to the deathless

Luang Por Bud (aged 101)

His desire defeatedNever again to be cheated

A selfless bag of bonesHe just plays

As he ends his daysAdored by his faithful kin

Sat on finest sheepskinBeyond worldly dreams or dramas

And wearing silk pyjamas

Luang Por Daa (aged 97)

He walked bent doubleHis body in big troubleGrabbing and grasping

Like a steam driven spider.Yet his gaze was bright and calm

His mind seemed beyond stress or harm.

He sat as poised as kingsSpeaking truth with wings.

Luang Por Maha Sopa (aged 116)

Nearly deaf and nearly blindTender, impossibly kind

He would bellow the truthUntil it raised the roof.

With conviction, crafted and honed to the core Over a century and more

By the virtue and learningThat had taken him beyond worldly yearning

To peace.

Luang Dtaa Maha Boowa (aged 96)

His own inner battle won long agoStanding proudly at the prowHe will fight our demons now

Until his last breathTakes him forever beyond death.

Luang Por Liem

Always there, full of careAlways the same, so perfectly tame

We gather to learnFrom his complete lack of concern, so sublime

As though a space is created beyond time.

Luang Por Sumedho

Still jewel that glistensA heart so fond

That always listensBoth here and beyond

Luang Por Pannavaddho

Inner wealth won in the hardship where nobody criesHeld in the soft sparkle of diamond eyes

His humble wit ploughed through sorrow and greedPlanting in all the most precious seed.

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Words and photos by Ajahn Kalyano.For more works by the same author:

http://www.openthesky.co.uk/

Published in 2017 by:Lokuttara Vihara, Skiptvet, Norway.

http://skiptvet. skogskloster.no

For free distribution only