JJ ( / )

Zen And The Art Of Dying

Like vanishing dew,
a passing apparition,
or a sudden flash of
lightning ~ already gone ~
so should one regard ones self.

What might I leave you
as my lasting legacy ~
flowers in springtime,
the mockingbird singing all summer,
the yellow leaves of autumn.

Only now do I know
that power ~ greater than storms,
a heart-rending awe
silencing all the pines
at nightfall on the mountain.

If pressed to compare
this brief life, I would say
it’s like the boat
that crossed this morning’s harbor,
leaving no mark on the world.

To learn to die,
watch the cherry blossoms
observe the chrysanthemums.
O voice of the all night wind and rain,
do you count the petals falling.

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Comments (3)

I do share your sentiments, it's very important for one to let go... otherwise one will fear death. And fear leads to all sorts of negative or delusional thoughts.
Jim, excellent write... but I'd like to think that poetry leaves an indelible mark on the world and, to some extent, a legacy for the author?
Beautiful and effective expression of the Buddhist sensibility. If only we could learn to let go of life when the time comes with the grace of cherry blossom petals falling in the night wind. Very nice poem.