Friday, March 20, 2020

A Modern Lotus Sutra

May the farmer till his field,
in harmony with Nature sow the seeds
and reap the harvest in peace
and at night when he falls asleep
dream of the lotus which is my Heart.

May the horseman guard the fence by day,
shield the borders of the city,
and guard the people behind the walls of the state
and at night as he falls asleep
dream of the Lotus which my heart is.

May the children go to school in the morning,
play and learn joyously and safely come back home.
Let their minds be nurtured and bodies grow
and at night as they fall asleep
dream of the Lotus which my Heart is.

May the farmers take the crops to markets,
sell the goods at a fair price
and while returning
buy the things they need
and at night as they fall asleep
dream of the Lotus which my Heart is.

In the evening before sunset
may all the beings
come to the shrine where I rest
and at night as they fall asleep
dream of the Lotus which my Heart is.

Sushama Karnik
Jul 15, 2016

Courtesy +anu x dedicated to you in memory of Chloe
Lotus Sutra Mandala Honpoji, Toyama, Japan, c. 1326-28

Description : Lotus Sutra Mandala, Honpoji, Toyama, Toyama, Japan
日本語: 絹本著色法華経曼荼羅図

Date 1326-28

Source http://www2.tkc.pref.toyama.jp/general/stdydtl.aspx?stdycd=00084182&libcd=

Author Anonymous Kamakura-period artist





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Tuesday, March 17, 2020


Quite like you
to assemble odd stuff
held together
by a thread of oriental love
for the ancient silk
A wooden tray holds
a book of poesy,
perhaps the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam,With ;
the message: Live in the Present
The wine helps.

two silver spoons casually thrown,
probably some family heirloom,
and lost in an imaginary world of
another brand of reality
a butterfly hovers over it all
on brittle wings of dreams.
And oh yes; how could I fail to notice
The empty cup of tea?
✍️ 🍵 🥀 
Like a freshly blown rose
A glimpse of you touched the morning sun.
And everything about you
turned into a mystery wearing an exquisite glove.
A finely crafted teacup held in the rosy fingers,
and the sunrays fell timorously
on your snow white apparel washed
as if by the rays of last night's moon.
You had turned your glance away,
lost in some casual but subtle tone.
All around you was an aura
of some exotic windpipe suddenly blown.
Who would ever want to break
the mystique of this silentl zone?
Sushama Karnik
Image credit: courtesy @ fawzi hejazi