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

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 [...]]]>

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?

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 [...]]]>

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

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 [...]]]>

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

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

I went to the river. Once again dry, but for the tears in my eyes there was none for me to drink. I need to drink.

When water runs dry… We wait, the fish wait, the animals wait all of us wait. [...]]]>

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

I went to the river. Once again dry, but for the tears in my eyes there was none for me to drink. I need to drink.

When water runs dry… We wait, the fish wait, the animals wait all of us wait. It cannot be found.

Later I saw the river again. Willows had grown, sucking up water. Since there was food for the Moose, I do not cry.

The Moose is so hungry, but the willows, they cry…will the water return by and by? The Raven sighs.

Once I brought three lotus to the river. Not one could stay. I cried, and walked away. Alone.

The scent lingers. The willows continue their thirsty way. Moose grows fat.

Someone must bring the rain. Soon we will all be gone. The feast of sweetness abandoned.

Here is a Lotus in my window. I pray the fragrance is pure. Here is a candle shining. Here is a hope.

Soon I must bring a Lotus to the river with joy. But I do not know if it will float downstream. They often do.

Copyright © Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo.  All rights reserved

Crazy Wisdom lives inside my head. Holy dreams when I go to bed Bitter tears that I cannot shed Ya better listen.

So much suffering that we cannot see That’s the way it will always be. Until you yourself set your mind free Ya gotta listen.

When your [...]]]>

Crazy Wisdom lives inside my head.
Holy dreams when I go to bed
Bitter tears that I cannot shed
Ya better listen.

So much suffering that we cannot see
That’s the way it will always be.
Until you yourself set your mind free
Ya gotta listen.

When your only dream is about yourself
And your heart so cold you love no one else.
Will you die this way? Or ask for help?
Ya better listen.

I know only love is worth our time.
Will we reach our bliss with a life sublime
Or just continue to run blind?
Ya gotta listen!