Daily writing prompt
If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?
A Buddha / Bodhisattva (if there’s one about these days.) Why? To feel how his (or her) subjective experience compares to my own.
A Buddha / Bodhisattva (if there’s one about these days.) Why? To feel how his (or her) subjective experience compares to my own.
The fog envelopes me.
I draw vivid pictures
on its white surface.
I don't know how I do it,
But I know why.
It's a craving:
To fill emptiness,
To disallow silence.
The fog's texture is
Subtle, but existent.
Should I not sketch my story
On that white surface,
But rather give it my attention
then I might see that texture,
and then see it clearly,
and - eventually - feel it
as I glide my hand
though space...
Blind and at ease.
My mind's a map. A mad sea-captain drew
it
Under a flowing moon until he knew it;
Winds with brass trumpets, puffy-cheeked
as jugs,
And states bright-patterned like Arabian
rugs.
"Here there be tygers." "Here we buried
Jim."
Here is the strait where eyeless fishes swim
About their buried idol, drowned so cold
He weeps away his eyes in salt and gold.
A country like the dark side of the moon,
A cider-apple country, harsh and boon,
A country savage as a chestnut-rind,
A land of hungry sorcerers.
Your mind?
--Your mind is water through an April
night,
A cherry-branch, plume-feathery with its
white,
A lavender as fragrant as your words,
A room where Peace and Honor talk like
birds,
Sewing bright coins upon the tragic cloth
Of heavy Fate, and Mockery, like a moth,
Flutters and beats about those lovely
things.
You are the soul, enchanted with its
wings,
The single voice that raises up the dead
To shake the pride of angels.
I have said.
The Secret of the Golden Flower: The Classical Chinese Book of Life by Lü DongbinJagged window
on the world:
All light and sound
deadened,
but from one opening --
The cave mouth.
From behind
nothing stirs,
nothing glows,
shadows are subsumed
by shadow.
Eyes and mind
frame the cave mouth,
making the mind
a cave within a cave:
layered silence
layered remoteness,
and all input of a single,
common source.
How many caves deep might
this thing go?
Essential Zen by Kazuaki Tanahashi
Tranquil Sitting: A Taoist Journal on Meditation and Chinese Medical Qigong by Yin Shih Tzu