A love poem for you.

For your bravery in coping with so much suffering.

For taking so much on.

So that you could find your way through.

So that you could teach.

As the leaf blowers rage and you feel like you are splitting into pieces

sharp pieces that only desire to slice you down

into pieces

Remember

that you made it through

you made it through

over and over again

So what if you fall

so what if you become hard like a brick from anger

that devours you completely

you'll always be back

you will always be back

i can't stop writing  cuz i have been suffering so much

for so long now

And if i stop writing i will feel the knife lodged

this was supposed to be a love poem for myself

i don't know what it is

i just now that once again the leaf blowers came and stole all of my peace again

and i am so angry that my peace was stolen again

because of the lack of compassion

i relinquish all desire

devoting myself to the practice

one tear

slid down my face 

and stumbled into a pool of blood

and pus

twisted in my gut

where the animals reside

it trickled through

through 

and through

until it reached you

reaching for me

we held it there together

mending ourselves together

our pain intermingling

mine untangling yours

yours untangling mine

we sat patiently together

sharing the ache as though it was all that we had left to share

until the breeze came through and your stars crumbled all around me

the leaf-blowers came 

this time i can feel them slitting my pelvis in two

and you are there

holding

holding

holding

reminding me that peace is my choice

my blessing

and that whatever hurts

can always be transformed

 - Atara Schimmel

I have reached the shore.

I am safe again.

I have made it through.

Your hand.

You extended to me.

I took it.

And turned the other away.

I understand that you want me now.

I am here now.

Resting.

Here.

Now. 

Resting.

My tear slides into your hands.

You hold it in your hands for me.

And show me all of the colors of the rainbow that my lonely tear contains.

I look. I come. Closer.

You show me the yellow. The red. The blue.

I notice the traces of pink and I come even closer.

You pull me in with your words.

And I borrow them for my own poetry.

So now we are writing together.

Writing our poetry together.

I understand what we are doing now.

                           Atara Schimmel

As the leaf blowers rage.

I lay on the floor of my room.

Understanding that I am leaving something behind me.

Understanding that I have to go further.

Go deeper into peace.

Deepening my understanding of suffering.

I understand now where I am going.

I am understanding that I must practice.

Practice with a Sangha.

I understand.

Your bloody fist opened and the rose petals fell to the floor.

I stooped so low to pick them up.

And kissed the sacred ground that cradled my feet.

Each petal a tear.

Each drop of blood a dream for peace.

Transformed.

I took you into my arms and watched you dissolve.

I leave slowly, so as not to abandon or frighten anyone.

I leave because my life is sacred and I must honor it entirely and completely.

                                                        - Atara Schimmel

Let go of the clinging.

Let go of the craving.

Let go of the desire.

Return.

To now.

Allow yourself to be.

Be the way.

Be the way.

Be the way.

Practice and you will become the way itself.

    -Atara Schimmel

"In the garbage I see a rose.

In the rose I see the garbage.

Everything is impermanent.

Even permanence is impermanent."

                                           -Buddhist




Stay with your suffering.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

There is nowhere to run to.

Nothing to run from.

Everything is here.

Enlightenment is here.

Awakening is here.

Love is here.

You need not search anymore.

Just be.

Be.

Be here now.

I am here now.

I am here.

Here.

Now.

We can do this together.

We can do this alone as well.

We can do this, always.

Here.

Now.

Here.

Now.
.
I devote myself to practicing the way.

Back.

To myself.

If you can find yourself within me.

Than I can let you go.

We are both free.

Free.

Free from attachment.

Free from the cycles of birth and death.

Understanding and compassion is what I seek.

To teach.

To bring the rose back to its petals.

They disperse and crumble back to the earth.

They flutter and fall.

Into the arms of my own clinging desire to escape my pain.

Your arms like the rose fade away into a fist.

That opens and holds my heart.

I promised you poetry.

To mend my broken heart that has never been broken at all.

Back into this moment.

Where the practice guides me.

I will sail and I will return taking the shore with me.

Dissolving into the sea where I imagined that you walked with me.

     - Atara Schimmel

https://soundcloud.com/blue-cliff-monastery/discourse-on-the-eight-realizations-of-the-great-beings-m-woyo-nuevo



I am tangled

twisted

ropes tie me down

I am deeply free

Peace is within me

I am seeking to escape

I am here now

Right here with you

I am running into others

Only to find that they are all me

and that running

lands me right back on the floor

to my self

All of my longing to be in someone else's arms

I drop back down on my knees

left always with only me

We are all one

so what could i possibly run into

whose arms could i drown all of this pain in

when we are this pain together

can you hold my pain

playing hot potato

that is what we do

the kinder and more compassionate we are with each other

the easier it is to pass and carry this hot potato

more and more i want to be relieved from this suffering

more and more i want to accept this suffering

more and more i want to shave my hair off and practice the dharma

more and more i want to go to a buddhist monestary to practice

to practice holding

holding

holding this suffering

holding

holding

holding

this suffering