Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Ivan M. Granger November 6th, 2009

Thief of hearts
by Ivan M. Granger

Thief of hearts,
you have ransacked
this beggar’s hut,
left me
nothing.

All I see
now
is the print
of your pilfering hand
everywhere.

/ Photo by notsogoodphotography /

As I’m getting back into the rhythm of the Poetry Chaikhana, I thought I’d take this opportunity to highlight one of my own poems. For a poem about thievery, I hope it gives you something special today…

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The “thief of hearts” is, of course, the Beloved, God.

Let’s face it, from the ego’s point-of-view, the relationship with the Divine is a problematic one. What the heart recognizes as liberation, the ego sees as theft. It’s really very funny… when we’re not tormented by the spiritual dilemma, that is.

All that the ego claims as its own slips from its grip. Control and possession define the ego. So what is it to do when the master thief breaks into the awareness and reveals everything to be the filmy stuff of dreams and light?

In that ultimate moment, however, the emerging bliss is so all-pervasive that even the drowning ego laughs with its last gasp.

Something I thought I’d point out about the poem’s structure: The poem itself is a pair of thieving hands. It has two groups of five lines, suggesting two hands with five fingers each.

Also, notice that the lines “left me / nothing” are intentionally ambiguous. They could be saying that the thief of hearts has left me with nothing — having taken everything — or perhaps it is saying the thief has left me as nothing — without identity or sense of ego.

The line breaks for “All I see / now” force the unconscious mind to read several layers of meaning into the lines. Some part of the awareness will read that first line as a complete statement of its own: “I see all.” To follow with the single word “now” snaps the awareness into the present moment. When one sees all, one is fully present, now. Or, when one sees, all is in the present moment.

Yet each thing of that “all” has lost its ‘thingness.’ The “pilfering hand” has taken away the world normally perceived as a scattered collection of disconnected people and objects.

…But — and here’s another secret — that pilfering hand secretly gives as it takes. The “print” of that hand leaves us, instead, with a magical universe filled with immensity and life and a giddy sense of being that flows everywhere.

===

Too much explanation? Maybe we should just let the poem itself do its work…

Have a wonderful weekend!

Ivan M. Granger US (1969 - ) Secular or Eclectic Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist

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Ivan M. Granger November 4th, 2009

The Divine Image
by William Blake

To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

— from Music of the Sky: An Anthology of Spiritual Poetry, Edited by Patrick Laude / Edited by Barry McDonald

/ Photo by alicepopkorn /

If you’re like I am, you probably cringed at that line in the final stanza referring to “heathen, Turk or Jew.” The phrase sounds disparaging taken out of context. But reread what Blake is actually saying: He is using the common prejudice of the day, that white British Christians are superior to heathens, Turks and Jews, and he turns it on its head. He declares that “Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell / There God is dwelling too.”

In other words, Blake is offering a truly universal vision of God that transcends religious, racial, and cultural boundaries. God isn’t limited to specific dogmas. God doesn’t favor one skin color or one national flag over another. God dwells where the human heart in fruition has made a home for “Love, Mercy, Pity, and Peace.”

Where there is love, where there is mercy and compassion and empathy, where there is deep peace — that is where God is found among people, regardless of who those people are or by what name they call God.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

If more poems like this were read, think how different the world would be.

William Blake England (1757 - 1827) Timeline Secular or Eclectic Christian

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Ivan M. Granger November 2nd, 2009

Whether they know Thee or not
by Fakhruddin Iraqi

English version by William Chittick and Peter Lamborn Wilson

Whether they know Thee or not
      all creatures of the world
now and forever-without-end
      bend but toward Thee.
All love for someone else
      is but a whiff
of Thy perfume:
      none else can be loved.

— from Fakhruddin Iraqi: Divine Flashes (Classics of Western Spirituality) , by William Chittick / Nasr Seyyed Hossein

/ Photo by lepiaf.geo /

I’m back and so are the poems. Again, thank you from my heart for the many notes in recent weeks. And thank you too for your patience. Now for a poem by the great Fakhruddin Iraqi…

==

all creatures of the world
now and forever-without-end
bend but toward Thee.

Love those lines. And we forget that this is true. Not just all people, but all beings, consciously or unconsciously constantly turn toward the Eternal. Everything desired, everything loved, every hope, every goal, everything we seek we seek because on some level it reflects back to us an image of the Divine.

All love for someone else
      is but a whiff
of Thy perfume

When something catches our eye or our heart, beneath the love or the lust, when we really look, we find we have witnessed a glimpse the transcendent light. That light, that entrancing luster, is what we seek so passionately.

Understanding this leads to the deeper question: Why seek the countless objects of desire that only reflect the glistening light of the Beloved? Why grasp at glinting shards of a mirror when we can bathe in full sunlight?

In every love, we love the Beloved.

none else can be loved.

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Ivan M. Granger October 5th, 2009

How can I see the splendor of the moon
by Bibi Hayati

English version by Aliki Barnstone

How can I see the splendor of the moon
If his face shines over my heart,
Flaming like the sun?

As Hayati has drunk his ecstasy,
Her soul now satisfied by the wine of his pure heart,
How can she drink any other nectar?

— from The Shambhala Anthology of Women’s Spiritual Poetry, Edited by Aliki Barnstone

/ Photo by jenny downing /

Have you stepped outside in the last few evenings to notice the full moon? Because she changes, the moon draws our attention. But how difficult is it to pause and truly recognize the radiant beauty of the steady sun? Our certainty of the sun, the all-permeating nature of its light too often means we don’t see it at all…

In this poem, the “splendor of the moon” can be understood to represent creation. The moon, in its waxing and waning cycles, its changeability, expresses the most glorious or most brilliant aspects of the manifest world. And, in its femininity, the moon also represents the poet herself, her soul.

Unlike the fluctuating light of the moon, the sun’s light is steady, constant, overpowering of all other light; in fact, it is the source of all other light, including the moon’s. The masculine sun represents the Beloved to the feminine soul. In this poem, the sun is God.

When the sun of God’s face shines over her heart, all of creation and all of herself is consumed in its flaming light. She sees nothing but the light of God, feeling that presence upon her heart.

And, as with so many sacred poems, especially within the Sufi tradition, wine here is the mystical drink. Bibi Hayati refers to the wine as having come from “his” (the Beloved’s, God’s) pure heart.

It is the true nectar. It flows in abundance. What else can satisfy?

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Ivan M. Granger October 2nd, 2009

As once the winged energy of delight
by Rainer Maria Rilke

English version by Stephen Mitchell

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions… For the god
wants to know himself in you.

— from Ahead of All Parting: The Selected Poetry and Prose of Rainer Maria Rilke, Translated by Stephen Mitchell

/ Photo by u07ch /

My apologies — I’m running late today after a morning spent troubleshooting problems with phone lines. Phones and email should now be working again… So how about a poem for this Friday?

==

So many lines in this poem by Rilke just dance, don’t they?

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses…

The “winged energy of delight” carrying us over “childhood’s dark abysses.” Mm.

…now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges

You know, I could go line by line through this poem, and merely rotate my responses with “Wow!” and “Wonderful!” and “Love that!”

Why don’t I let you do that instead.

Once we’ve gotten past that reaction, then we can begin to hear what he’s really saying.

For the god
wants to know himself in you.

Have a blessed weekend! (Me, I’m going for a drive in the mountains to be among the aspens at their golden peak…)

Rainer Maria Rilke Germany (1875 - 1926) Timeline Secular or Eclectic

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Ivan M. Granger September 30th, 2009

You think of the Path
by Ram Tzu (Wayne Liquorman)

You think of the Path
As a long arduous climb
Up the mountain.

All disappear
Into the desert sands below

— from No Way: For the Spiritually “Advanced”, by Wayne Liquorman

/ Photo by mateo caprari /

Ramesh Balsekar died this past weekend, on September 27. He was a well-known as a spiritual teacher of Advaita Vedanta, the Hindu nondualist tradition. So I thought it might be appropriate to remember him through this poem by one of his best known Western students Wayne Liquorman (who sometimes writes under the pen name of Ram Tzu).

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In this poem, why do you suppose Ram Tzu has reversed the traditional image of the spiritual journey, transforming it from a path (or many paths) that go up a mountain into many streams that flow down a mountain… and disappear into sands? What is he saying about effort and non-effort? What does the image of the streams disappearing into the sands say about his nondualist perspective?

A few questions to contemplate…

Ram Tzu (Wayne Liquorman) US (1950 - ) Yoga / Hindu : Advaita / Non-Dualist Secular or Eclectic

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Ivan M. Granger September 28th, 2009

To Be Shown to the Monks at a Certain Temple
by Chiao Jan

English version by J. P. Seaton

Not yet to the shore of nondoing,
it’s silly to be sad you’re not moored yet…
Eastmount’s white clouds say
to keep on moving, even
if it’s evening, even if it’s fall.

— from The Shambhala Anthology of Chinese Poetry, Edited by J. P. Seaton

/ Photo by bslmmrs /

On this Monday, when most people are starting their work week, focused on action and accomplishment, I thought Chiao Jan should remind us of the goal of “nondoing.”

Not yet to the shore of nondoing,
it’s silly to be sad you’re not moored yet…

To be “moored” implies the boat of the self has arrived at its destination — enlightenment. But what does that have to do with “nondoing”?

Nondoing isn’t so much inactivity; rather, in the midst of action, there is no personal sense of doership. Action takes place through you, but within you are quiet, at ease, a serene witness. Action no longer emerges from the impulses of the ego, and actions do not reinforce the ego. I know this sounds like a concept that only arcane philosophers would care about, but the actual experience is one of delightful, pure flow, as if a layer of grime has finally been washed from your hands. Movement just naturally occurs upon an open field of awareness. Some traditions describe this actionless action as writing on water, the movement occurs but no trace of ego is left behind.

So this is Chiao Jan’s nondoing.

But he is writing this from the perspective of an aging monk who hasn’t quite reached that shore yet. Even though it’s evening, even if it’s fall, even if if the years have gathered in our bones and hang upon our faces, the mountain of the east — the direction of sunrise and enlightenment — beckons us onward, and inward. We journey until we arrive.

And Chiao Jan is absolutely right: It is silly to be sad at not yet having arrived. There’s a secret key here, one that’s so easy to overlook in spiritual practice. It’s silly to be sad to be where one is. Think about that for a moment. To wish to be somewhere else, even if that somewhere is enlightenment, is to wish to be somewhere other than where you are. Whereas true enlightenment — and nondoing — are only possible when one is deeply present. It is only by fully being where we are that we then discover our boat has arrived at the shore.

Chiao Jan was an aristocrat during the Golden Age of the T’ang era in China. He later became a Ch’an (Zen) Buddhist monk.

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Ivan M. Granger September 25th, 2009

A Holy Tabernacle in the Heart (from Life of the Future World)
by Rabbi Abraham Abulafia

English version by Jewish Theological Seminary

However,
      the breath
which is
      from the second one
is a
      holy
      tabernacle
in the heart.
One ascends
      with the Unique Name
      to the sky
      to depict with Unifications
      the relationship
between everything that
      is difficult
      in this
      science of pronunciation.
It alone is
      life in the Name.
It is remembered and sealed
      in the Book of Life
to make the individual live
      with passion
      which enlightens
constantly, when
      every thought,
      every soul
is concentrated on it.

— from Meditation and Kabbalah, by Aryeh Kaplan

/ Photo by Andréia /

Sunday evening begins Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement.

When we approach our own imperfections with honesty, integrity, and humility, we are surprised to find ourselves freed and able to make new, better decisions in the future.

Our mistakes rarely come from lack of will power. It’s not usually that we didn’t try hard enough. When we really look, we discover that most of our mistakes come from limited perception. We make poor choices when our awareness is clouded. The work, then, is not to be stricter with ourselves; instead, we need to see ourselves and our world more clearly. When we do that the best path of action not only becomes obvious, it is the path we prefer.

to make the individual live
      with passion
      which enlightens
constantly, when
      every thought,
      every soul
is concentrated on it.

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There is an interesting connection in this verse that is easily missed. Rabbi Abulafia is, of course, saying something about the Kabbalistic practice of word permutations, as a way of discovering the foundational Word. This “Unique Name” becomes a ladder, allowing us to ascend to the heavenly realms, where we discover the interrelationship of things and the “Unifications” underlying reality.

But if we back up to the very beginning lines, he could be reminding us that this “science of pronunciation,” the speaking of words rides upon the breath. And the breath emerges from the “holy tabernacle in the heart.”

He is giving us a sacred formula:

Heart > Breath > Words > The Word > Heaven

Words without heart and breath, do they lead anywhere?

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Ivan M. Granger September 23rd, 2009

Interrelationship
by Thich Nhat Hanh

You are me, and I am you.
Isn’t it obvious that we “inter-are”?
You cultivate the flower in yourself,
so that I will be beautiful.
I transform the garbage in myself,
so that you will not have to suffer.

I support you;
you support me.
I am in this world to offer you peace;
you are in this world to bring me joy.

— from Call Me by My True Names: The Collected Poems of Thich Nhat Hanh, by Thich Nhat Hanh

/ Photo by jmurawski /

This poem by the great modern Buddhist teacher and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh was written during a retreat for psychotherapists held in Colorado in response to Fritz Perls’ statement, “You are you, and I am me, and if by chance we meet, that’s wonderful. If not, it couldn’t be helped.”

This is a brief meditation on the Buddhist teaching of “inter-being.” Within the nondual awareness cultivated in Buddhism, especially the Zen Buddhism taught by Thich Nhat Hanh, nothing exists separately of everything else. Everything, ourselves included, is recognized as being a meeting point of shifting forces, environment, time, and perception. It is only in that touching, that interaction, that forms arise and individuals are said to exist. Remove those forces, and individual beings and objects cannot exist. In this sense, as individuals we are not spots that occupy space on the blank field of creation, rather we are empty spaces that are only suggested by the confluence of various forces. Discover that empty space, and you discover the eternal, blissful Void that is the true Self — void of form and “thingness,” but filled with life and awareness.

To return to Thich Nhat Hanh’s poem, as individuals with a certain body form and name and history, we exist only in the perception of each other. This is how he can pose the question, “Isn’t it obvious that we ‘inter-are’?”

By cultivating pure and compassionate awareness within ourselves, we transform those who perceive us, for their perception of us is a part of what they are composed of. And the more we “transform the garbage” in ourselves, the less that garbage shows up in those around us.

In this way of inter-being, the more we discover peace, the more we offer peace; the more we find joy, the more we bring joy.

Thich Nhat Hanh Vietnam (1929 - ) Buddhist : Zen / Chan

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Ivan M. Granger September 21st, 2009

When the Day Came
by Kabir

English version by Andrew Harvey

When the Day came –
The Day I had lived and died for –
The Day that is not in any calendar –
Clouds heavy with love
Showered me with wild abundance.
Inside me, my soul was drenched.
Around me, even the desert grew green.

— from Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from the Sufi Wisdom, by Andrew Harvey / Eryk Hanut

/ Photo by aloshbennett /

It’s a rainy morning where I live in Colorado. Heavy clouds. Water hanging off each leaf…

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It is the end of the month-long fast of Ramadan for Muslims. For Hindus, it is the middle of Navaratri, the nine day festival of the Divine Mother. In Judaism, we just finished celebrating Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year. And tomorrow is the Autumn Equinox.

Plenty of reason for almost everyone to go out and celebrate! Find a big puddle and splash around with both feet! Forget your umbrella.

Kabir India (15th Century) Timeline Muslim / Sufi Yoga / Hindu

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Ivan M. Granger September 18th, 2009

[508] I’m ceded–I’ve stopped being Theirs
by Emily Dickinson

I’m ceded–I’ve stopped being Theirs–
The name They dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church
Is finished using, now,
And They can put it with my Dolls,
My childhood, and the string of spools,
I’ve finished threading–too–

My second Rank–too small the first–
Crowned–Crowning–on my Father’s breast–
A half unconscious Queen–
But this time–Adequate–Erect,
With Will to choose, or to reject,
And I choose–just a Crown–

— from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women, Edited by Jane Hirshfield

/ Photo by live-showtime /

I believe this poem belongs among the great enlightenment poems. At the same time its words pointedly cut at religious convention.

Something has happened. Something that makes Emily Dickinson erupt from the opening lines, fiercely asserting that she is “ceded,” that she has “stopped being Theirs.” This is a proclamation of supreme yielding or dying to oneself that is also her escape into freedom.

She no longer has use for “The name They dropped upon my face” when she was baptized. That name is now something that she has set aside with other childish things. Not just set aside, it has fallen away. Her social identity, the person “They” call Emily has ceased to exist. She has discovered herself to be something larger, more essential, more true. She has exploded into an identity so immense and all-encompassing that it is the “supremest name” — the Ultimate, the Absolute. She has been “Called to my full,” a state of awareness in which “Existence’s whole Arc” is “filled up.”

But also notice the iconoclastic way she refers to baptism. The first baptism was a baptism given to her “without the choice” and imposes upon her a name that is “too small,” that must be grown out of and abandoned. She implies that that first baptism initiated her into the social world, not the spiritual one. That name that “They dropped upon my face” had trapped her, making her “Theirs,” somehow controlled and contained by societal conventions represented by the “country church.” She contrasts this with her “Crowning,” a second baptism, but one received inwardly, “consciously, of Grace.” She implies that this second baptism is the real anointing that gives true freedom, not the baptism she received as a child. For much of the Christian world that is a dangerous assertion even today, a century and a half later. Her words challenge fellow Christians to seek the inner anointing, of which the outer baptism is a reflection.

The last line particularly grabs my attention, “And I choose–just a Crown–” Rather than choosing (or rejecting) a new name or renewed social ego, she possesses the clarity and “Will” to choose instead to reside in the immensity of this “supremest name.” What else needs to be said?

Emily Dickinson US (1830 - 1886) Timeline Secular or Eclectic Christian : Protestant

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Ivan M. Granger September 16th, 2009

seeker of truth
by e. e. cummings

seeker of truth

truth is here

— from E.E. Cummings: Complete Poems 1904-1962, by e. e. cummings

/ Photo by Nifty.. /

A little nondual wisdom for us today by the great e. e. cummings.

Should I say more? Nope.

e. e. cummings US (1894 - 1962) Timeline Secular or Eclectic

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Ivan M. Granger September 14th, 2009

It was like a stream
by Akka Mahadevi

English version by A. K. Ramanujan

It was like a stream
      running into the dry bed
      of a lake,
                  like rain
      pouring on plants
      parched to sticks.

Seeing the feet of the master
O lord white as jasmine,
      I was made
      worthwhile.

— from Women Writing in India: 600 BC to the Present: Volume 1, Edited by Susie Tharu / Edited by K. Lalita

/ Photo by Wofgang Staudt /

You know, there is always a question people are afraid to ask, or just don’t think to ask… So let’s ask it now:

What in the world are these poets and mystics really talking about? Is there anything real behind all of these esoteric poems and sacred scriptures?

Once we step away from heavily laden words like God or heaven or enlightenment, we have to ask if these are just lovely word games and endless philosophical speculation.

I guess all of that is a roundabout way of asking the blunt question, What is the real point to a lifetime of spiritual striving?

Here’s a little secret that isn’t often mentioned in church or mosque or synagogue: In deepest communion, when the mind is still and the heart open, we are flooded by such an immense, ecstatic joy that nothing else can compare to it.

Let me say that again, because it is not some pretty philosophical notion; it is real, and directly perceived: When the mind is still and the heart open, we are flooded with an immense, ecstatic joy beyond describing.

That flood brings with it a profound sense of life. It is a sense of being alive that is utterly new, unknown until that moment. It is as if we experience what it means to be alive for the first time. Christians speak of this as the rebirth. Eastern traditions speak of it as awakening. That flood — it feels like a rushing stream — finally slakes a deep thirst we didn’t know we had.

It was like a stream
      running into the dry bed
      of a lake,
                  like rain
      pouring on plants
      parched to sticks.

In other words, yes, these poets are actually describing something real. It is something felt and tangible. The spiritual journey is not about withering discipline or theological correctness, clinging to a dusty ideal unto the grave. It is about life! And a very real deep, mysterious delight!

The theologian reformulates other people’s descriptions sugar, and tells himself he is content. But the mystic is only satisfied with tasting it.

The spiritual journey is about discovering the very real sweetness that you are.

O lord white as jasmine,
      I was made
      worthwhile.

Akka Mahadevi India (12th Century) Timeline Yoga / Hindu : Shaivite (Shiva)

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Ivan M. Granger September 14th, 2009

I was introduced to this video by Johnny Mg Kwlmann, a delightful musical rendition of the recently featured poem by Bulleh Shah:

To Me, I Am Not Known

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Ivan M. Granger September 11th, 2009

True person manifest throughout the ten quarters of the world
by Dogen

English version by Steven Heine

The true person is
Not anyone in particular;
But, like the deep blue color
Of the limitless sky,
It is everyone, everywhere in the world.

— from The Zen Poetry of Dogen: Verses from the Mountain of Eternal Peace, by Steven Heine

/ Photo by Alejandra Mavroski /

It’s been too long since our last selection by Dogen Zenji.

True to Zen form, Dogen cuts right to the essential here.

Look for the true person deeply enough, and we find it. We find it in ourselves. But not in ourselves in a particular way. It is not in oneself while absent in another. We are quietly startled to discover that this true person is not contained by our skin. It does not stop at the edges of our lives. It does not even restrict itself to the borders of our far-flung thoughts. No, it flows out in all directions, utterly heedless of walls and distances and the greedy human mind.

But, like the deep blue color
Of the limitless sky,
It is everyone, everywhere in the world.

Find that one. Not only will you have found the true person, you will have discovered your very self spread out across existence!

Dogen Japan (1200 - 1253) Timeline Buddhist : Zen / Chan

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Ivan M. Granger September 9th, 2009

[321] If you keep seeking the jewel of understanding
by Abu-Said Abil-Kheir

English version by Vraje Abramian

If you keep seeking the jewel of understanding,
then you are a mine of understanding in the making.
If you live to reach the Essence one day,
then your life itself is an expression of the Essence.
Know that in the final analysis you are that
which you search for.

— from Nobody, Son of Nobody: Poems of Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir, Translated by Vraje Abramian

/ Photo by notsogoodphotography /

If you live to reach the Essence one day,
then your life itself is an expression of the Essence.

Doesn’t that about say it all?

Know that in the final analysis you are that
which you search for.

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Ivan M. Granger September 4th, 2009

Bulleh! to me, I am not known
by Bulleh Shah

Not a believer inside the mosque, am I
Nor a pagan disciple of false rites
Not the pure amongst the impure
Neither Moses, nor the Pharaoh

Bulleh! to me, I am not known

/ Photo by austinevan /

Bulleh Shah has given us a riddle to unravel today.

Bulleh! to me, I am not known

Ask yourself, What or who is not known when he keeps saying that he is “not known”? How can he say to himself that he is not known?

The little self, the ego, the self of attributes with a place in the world, the self that answers to the name Bulleh (”I am not the name I assume”) — that self can’t know the deeper Self. Why? Because the True Self is far too immense. The True Self is “not a believer… nor a pagan.” The True Self is not involved “in happiness nor in sorrow.” The True Self is too big to be contained by those definitions; it permeates them and encompasses them, without being caught by them.

Not from water, nor from earth
Neither fire, nor from air, is my birth

The True Self is not hemmed in by beginnings and ending.

From Adam and Eve, I am not born

One’s True Self is eternal.

I am the first, I am the last

And utterly whole and all-encompasing, with nothing external.

None other, have I ever known

No surprise then that the little self that clings to definitions and boundaries cannot know the Self Bulleh speaks of. The great, flowing vastness one IS, well, it is perceived, but it is not ‘known.’

Bulleh! to me, I am not known

If you want to encounter the deepest mystery, look in the mirror.

Bulleh Shah Pakistan (1680 - 1758) Timeline Muslim / Sufi

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