--Satish Kumar, The Buddha and the Terrorist
(Again, these are waterlilies.)
Hoping to walk
The circle of my life,
I put my toe
On the labyrinth's edge.
A crowd of black crows
Veers above
And drops fall
In this place
Where it never rains.
Writing has been my life
But my writing is stopped
By the crows
And the deaths they portend.
In the middle of the labyrinth of my twisting life,
I find myself under a cloud of crows
and the straight way is lost.
Lao Tzu would say
I must learn to write
Despite the haggling of the crows.
And perhaps he would also say
there is no
Straight way and no
Middle of the road
Of anyone's life.
Oh Lao Tzu, muse of labyrinths,
I should listen to you
And not the everlasting cawing
Of the crows.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Rumi ~
(The Essential Rumi, versions by Coleman Barks)