Tibetan Buddhist Altar » Poetry

Today

Jetsunma — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 18:04:34 +0000

The following is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo:

We are women
We are delicate and fragile
And inconceivably strong
Worlds are born from us
We are sacred
We are the oceans of the Earth
Seducing and touching the sand
This is our time

In a Dream

Jetsunma — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 13:30:23 +0000

In a dream I remember that I forgot what I remembered

I knew that I knew it was a dream.

I know I can stand still, in full presence and awaken

How odd that our uncontrived Primordial Nature dances with SO MANY mirrors, all sizes and shapes.

Splendid and devastating!

OM MANI PEDME HUNG

Golden Vase of Wisdom

Jetsunma — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 13:30:56 +0000

A poem by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

From the ordinary clay of samsara,

brilliant jewels of pure intention arise

Qualities are stable and virtuous,

as those things to be accepted or rejected are defined.

Slowly, with effort and renunciation,

the beautiful golden vase of wisdom and knowledge arises.

A new heart filled with comfort and joy is realized.

While Samsara Burns

Jetsunma — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 02:20:34 +0000

The following is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo:

Some of them are prideful, full of themselves in a way that precludes actual opening. Like cigar smoke in a furnished room makes a man.

Some are like Nero, madly playing in the bubble of delusion while samsara burns. Burns.

Some are ignorance. Like eyes watching a world of smoke and mirrors, totally orchestrated by madness.

Some are mechanical, reactive, tight. With a prototype protective covering, no one will notice they are not quite human.

For some it means nothing. Awake, asleep – shallow and deep. Up and high or on the fly – maybe you can’t help it. Or maybe I can’t.

Some go evil. Manipulation is evil. Like raising my kids. No one can discipline unless they have birthed and loved, wanted the best for them, I believe. And stick with that.

And the killers? Just keep them from harming more. I don’t care if they watch cable , swim, and have massage all day.

I wish we could all sit down and pray,

make offerings in some peaceful way,

for our selfishness we could offer light

no reason to fight.

Listen, we can do this,

we can blow right through this,

if we never take our minds off what’s right- Ja!

I could go on all night! Hallelujah and Amen!

Here is a teaching you did not ask for

Holly — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 13:30:30 +0000

A teaching by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

Try to believe in the Love….that the Love that exists is

Absolute. It never varies, it is unchanging. You did nothing

to deserve it and you cannot destroy it. It is your belief in the

Love, your acceptance of it, this changes from moment to

moment, circumstance to circumstance, tossed about on the

waves of your emotions.

Let your heart fall deeper under the surface to where the

waves seem very far away. There you will find it, and me.

Make a samaya now to go deeper every day, to diligently

travel to that calm place where the sands do not shift at all.

You never asked for this! Only for what is temporary,

turbulent, based on a self that you have only imagined. Learn

to ask for what is true. That you will be answered is certain

because the answer is already accomplished.

Beneath the waves it is already there.

I am with you again, still, always.

I do love you.

Written as a birthday gift for a student September 20, 1986 in Poolesville MD

BLEEDING

Jetsunma — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 00:13:21 +0000

The following poem is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo, inspired by the Occupy Wall Street movement:

I cried so much earlier, then I stopped a while. Time to cry again, no tears now. Too late for tears.

I wish I had some tears left over. I wish the well wasn’t dry. I wish I could speak to those with ears. So few.

I wish we all had understanding and Wisdom. And Compassion. But we are so busy, no time, even to pray. And so we lose our way.

Busy in our minds, dead in our hearts, eyes blind. I speak to a tree. At least it listens. Goodbye beautiful one.

Please awaken in spring, give us hope, a place to be. A place to Love again. A shady spot to remember when we were innocent.

We were so innocent while being eaten alive. I will always remember. If I don’t, who will?

Tsawai Lama

Jetsunma — Fri, 26 Aug 2011 12:30:50 +0000

The colors of Autumn in full measure
Bring to mind the ultimate pleasure
A great Mandala, an offering treasure
I offer to the Guru, gone beyond.

If my eyes know beauty, it is His.
If the scent is sweet it is His.
If the sound is lovely, it is His.
If the breeze is silk, it is His.

He who brought to me in this life
The ancient wisdom again, that Light.
The root of accomplishment, that One.
Only He warms my heart like the sun.

He will come again in glory
To sing His precious, ancient story.
Never mind the time of tears.
I cannot doubt that He is here

Young Throne Holder

Jetsunma — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 12:30:09 +0000

Prince of power this is the hour
This is the time when you must shine
I see it on your face, in your mind
You awaken right on time
To honor our Guru, our Lord Sublime.

You alone are well prepared
This time would come, you were aware
He gave you his essence with such care
I would have known Him anywhere.
You mixed your minds like water and wine

I hear His song in your mind.

I Will Follow

Jetsunma — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 00:37:20 +0000

The following is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo:

How comes this one?
He speaks no truth to me.
Nor to the visions I do see, he has nothing.
And if only he could see it so-
Maybe time will let him go.

I do grieve, not for hurtful misdeeds,
But, for flowers and hours of beauty, relentless bliss at the fiery tent.
I can’t resent
I’ll always follow…

OM AH HUNG BENZAR GURU PEDMA SIDDHI HUNG

This Journey

Jetsunma — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 12:30:45 +0000

The Journey

From the birth of yearning
To the moment of recognition
The path, this journey, is method.

One’s true nature the precious seed-
Buddha ground.
One’s journey, this path- the method.
The awakening- this fruit- the treasure.
How astonishing!

The ground, the path, the fruit are Buddha.
Praise to the Nirmanakaya Buddhas who walk the earth!
Praise to the sons and daughters who follow them!

May I myself return again and again for them.
May I never grow weary, or bored of helping them.
May I nurture, teach, and feed them precious fruit.
May I never abandon the supreme samaya!

Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo on October 21, 2009