Just now peering through the trees,

the first light of morning gold

breaks the shadow times of night.

Before the light grows stronger

awakening the morning creatures,

I wonder at the ‘oh so silent still’.

In these moments of calm morning air,

and daylights not yet broken

I pause to breathe the tranquil space.

For soon the chitterings of waking birds,

will chorus in the morning’s songs

as night’s shade fades away.

The promise of another day’s dawning

as morning stretches

to embrace the once cold and darkened night.

Morning’s songs now fully sung

have ushered in the dawn,

and morning light now fills the sky.

The setting sun of yesterday,

keeping promises through the night,

shining now a new day has begun.

Bhante n. Kassapa

that falls from the tree,
all things come to completion.

When I began this journey
I did not know the steps my sandals take,
Sadly at times I know where they will not.

I have left opened doors behind me,
walking away from gaping mouths
and statues with clay feet.

If I am to make my way into this life
I must risk the blessings
that have been lavished upon me.

It is from the goodness that I draw
my will to be again reborn
again and again before passing to the final death.

If I lived no harsh and bitter times
how would I measure
those moments of bliss and happiness?

My life has not been about the space I possess
but the great distances within myself
I have had to embrace.

So many people have brought so many things
into my life of wonder, I must choose
which things to call my own and which to return.

I asked my teacher many things,
for I have so much need to seek
the self of revelation.

He gave me this: learn everyday something new,
likewise share that which you have learned,
and cause no one or thing to suffer this day.

When one person passes, his life force
dies, until rebirth, but when thousands perish
the darkness is undeniable.

Sending my thoughts across the distance
opening my heart of compassion,
I breathe into this world my hope of great peace.

I may be able to do nothing more,
But I am able to speak.
One voice like a candle lives.

We, each of us will join our voices
In a chorus of compassion
and sing the songs of peace.

So when the last leaf falls,
it may rest until reborn,
as this comes to its completion.

So when the fallen
Strain to hear the outcry of the world
Our songs of peace we pray they hear.

Bhante Kassapa

Chased from one space to another
by my need for solitude.
Often others find a way to intrude
upon my burgeoning compassion.

Until I secret myself away
and find a sheltered corner.
Where I find myself a space,
to center and collect the person I’ve lost.

My eyes fall to a gray cement floor.
I begin the gathering of my thoughts.
Watching my breath I am calmed,
in these first few fragile moments.

As the morning light filters through the window pane,
no sounds are left to ripple me.
Like deep water now I rest upon my self’s reflection.
Asking nothing from the moment, only to rest in it.

In this space where unspoken thoughts fade,
the barriers to self begin to fall away.
This is the place where all feelings rest,
the light-and-dark, the happy-and-sorrowful.

My breath rises and falls,
not being forced or controlled.
I rest between the rising and the falling.
No light or dark, no sounds of fury remain.

Where once the clamor of emotion
and the cacophony of irritations rose,
now the empty silence of knowing abides,
and my collected self resides.

When once the morning’s gray thunderclouds hung,
the early sun shines in a bright blue sky.
The gray and filtered window fading
now bright and fills me with color.

Perhaps the morning sky was always blue,
and the window colors now visible,
and all the while my breath rises and falls.
I sit silently and reflect.

In these most tender moments,
knowing myself, I come to gather
all the thoughts of distraction, disdain and discord,
to let them pass from nightshade to dawn.

Sitting quietly the moments come and go.
The thoughts of life constantly filtering in and out.
The breath continues noticed and unnoticed.
Even mountains have moved while I simply sit and breathe.

For I have touched
the place of compassion,
and in the silent flickering of candle flame
my breath falls and rises again and again.

Bhante Kassapa

]]> http://kassapa.org/2007/11/moving-mountains/feed/ 2 http://kassapa.org/2007/10/in-the-rising-and-falling/ http://kassapa.org/2007/10/in-the-rising-and-falling/#comments Tue, 09 Oct 2007 20:27:59 +0000 Bhante Kassapa Bhikkhu http://kassapa.org/?p=33

I begin to search

the empty rooms of my memories.

Nothing but dust and decaying veils,

crumbling do I find.

A thought rises and dies,

a silent agony.

Rooms dimly lit, where no happiness rests.

I reach for words,

that simply fall away.

I stretch for meanings,

that elude my tender touch.

Without the light,

I am fading.

Without the glitter of so sweet sounds,

my ears hear nothing but a crushing silence.

I must find a way,

through these rooms of soundless voids.

Until finally I may rest my straining eyes

from peering into the dark.

That I may chance upon an unspoiled memory,

and light the candles of my world.

So I may wonder again at the child’s innocence,

And wash my face in wet spring rains.

That I may sing those songs that make men smile,

and smell the gentle fragrance of innocence.

I must make this promise to myself.

To light this path,

and open every dark and forbidding space.

I will share my sight

So all may see.

For everyone has stumbled,

And everyone will fall, but begin again the rising.

Any strength we have,

We must lend.

We must liberate the compassion within us

to every parched and starving life..

From so many lessons learned,

We must edify.

And any sufferings found,

We must make effort to touch and comfort.

First we experience the injury

and then begin to heal.

We must choose the path

And follow it with certainty.

Remembering always,

as our breath rises and falls

All life exists.

So as fear and sorrow fall away

Joy and happiness rise,

We must drink in our breath

with a great passion for living.

Then quietly without attachment

let it go,

For in our breath

we live,

In our non-attachment

of the breath

We will transcend

our lives forever.

Bhante  Kassapa

We are each of us

a repository of the universe.

In each of us sleeps creation.

If on this page you see the clouds

that rains upon the forest

and feel the paper in the tree,

then you are a poet.

For the cloud rains down upon the earth,

to nourish the tree so It can grow

and be harvested for many things.

Nothings exits in emptiness.

As alone and solitary as you may feel

you are a part of every living thing.

So when in your hands

you hold a warm and golden mango,

see the tree, the grower, the earth and the clouds.

There is a wonderful mystery

in the awakening of a mind to understanding.

That moment is enlightenment.

There is a subtle sweetness

in seeing the connections

that marry us to every living thing.

The brilliance of discovery is in the tiny changes;

in the delicate dawning of appreciation

of strength and connectivity to each other.

We are the aware and unacquainted.

Change makers and creatures underfoot.

We are the innocent conscience of our mindfulness.

The clouds on this paper, the trees, the earth,

all that lives and breathes in us, we are creation.

We are poets ready to be…..reborn.

Bhante n. Kassapa

In prayer and meditation,

I do not call upon creation,

I answer.

To hear,

I turn inwards,

inside,

Into myself.

The voice of creation is more gentle

than snowfall

more quiet,

than candle flame,

more peaceful than sunset,

more still,

than the sounds of incense rising.

I breathe out sadness and sorrow.

I breathe in joy,

peace and contemplation.

No thoughts no sounds,

I am placid and contemplative.

I am still…

Bhante  Kassapa

For a passing time,
they were rushing to their deaths
with the passion of martyrs,
holding a long kept secret,
they take to their graves.
Now with the branches against a bright blue canopy
the light against the dark,
offering up the contrasting rareness of Winter’s hold.
Only a few,
a very few remain,
left to greet the still.
But one by one,
they will descend,
in sloping rounds,
an ancient call they must rend.
Drifting this way and that
in a purposeful retreat,
seeking space upon the forest floor.
Passing each day now,
harboring the mounting chill,
and the promises of Winter kept.
The mood of the forest descends,
slipping into melancholia,
and finally into sleep,
sadness the sleep of ancient ritual.
Caught in time,
this death and rebirth honored
by nature’s so long held traditions.
Waiting,
for the warm sweet breath of Spring,
the reward for Winter’s faithfulness.
The essence of the vigil kept,
alive in soldier like tree solidarity,
will be born-out in Spring.
These sentinels of the forest,
sleeping now,
will soon reborn in Spring.
The celebration of life begins anew,
until again the rushing begins.

Bhante n. Kassapa

I sit in perfect silence.
Ever present
to my weaknesses and my strengths.
Remaining ever present,
in the dawn lit morning mists
I calm my inner world.
My thoughts rise on incense
that perfumes the air
and offers to accompany me
on this morning’s journey.
I pray myself happiness, joy and peace.
I ask the same for you.
I know that I am judged,
by my weakness and not my strengths,
but for me they are the same.
Often I am strong in my silence,
But it roars so loud within me.
Quietness and calm,
should never be assumed as complacency.
Kindness sometimes so expected,
can never be used,
as a measure of goodness.
My thoughts are my intentions
ever present.
Focused I pray to be in Harmony.
Focused I pray to know Joy.
Focused I pray for Knowledge.
Focused I pray for the path to Peace.
So in the morning’s journey I have come full circle.
Never ending ever present.
I remain.
I am present.
I am.

Bhante Kassapa

]]> http://kassapa.org/2007/09/i-sit-in-perfect-silence/feed/ 0 http://kassapa.org/2007/09/refuge/ http://kassapa.org/2007/09/refuge/#comments Mon, 10 Sep 2007 14:57:52 +0000 Bhante Kassapa Bhikkhu http://kassapa.org/?p=13

I place my trust,

With the One who teaches all,

The One who shows me

The life I need to live.

I sing the songs,

Of the Sage of time,

Who transcends the circle of life,

And pens the words

of love and compassion.

I seek the place

Where people of peace

Gather to pray,

And live in nature’s harmony.

I come again

to seek The Teacher of Truth

The Master of Happiness

and the Prophet of Joy.

I sing again these songs Immortal,

Whose lyrics light my heart,

And guide my path.

I pray again

The prayers of Loving and Kindness,

With those who come To learn and share the Peace,

with all the seen and unseen.

Again and again I search

and find The Mentor of Wisdom,

The Knower of Worlds,

and the Teacher of Truths Immortal.

Thrice I find the words of Refuge

Chanting upon my lips,

Bringing Happiness

to master a life of sorrows.

Over and over I join with those

Who live and love

Whose hearts are filled with Compassion,

Whose lives are guided by Hope,

So we may all be

Dreamers of peace,

And a candle

To light the path.

Bhante Kassapa