po

By Jingling Wanderer,
traveling in Mainland China
(Originally in Chinese)

Who, so enraptured by Hsihu
On this moonlit night,
Has transplanted the beauties of nature
From the world divine?

Who, amidst the heavenly creations
Of rugged rocks and bubbling spring,
Enjoys spiritual elevation to samadhi
Below pines and bamboos?

The Buddha savors this nectar water,
Sweetness freshening His throat,
All that flows from heaven,
Where the River Ganges has its source.

What is the source of this fragrance
Filling my green meadow sleep?
Deep in my heart,
Lies the Utopia of my dreams.

By the pine trees, the winds whisper.
To Her kindness, I respond with silent tears,
Wishing for the vehicle of light and a Rainbow Bridge
To take us through galaxies, back Home.

Behold! Who is mercifully showering
Blessings of dew and light,
As wild geese soar high
Into the darkening night?

Listen! Who is playing the harp
Of seven strings,
In tune with singing orioles and cicadas,
whose clear notes ring?

I hear Lao Tzu in my ears:
"The greatest music has the faintest notes."
The clouds as my scarf, the moon as my pillow,
I search for a celestial abode.

Pavilions stand tall and regal
High above the lush green meadows.
Who dares trample upon them,
When clouds of many colors are watching?

Insects, fish, birds, and beasts
All live in harmony.
Who dares say that heaven is not here
In this human world?

Postscript
The wanderer, having been away from home for a long time, often misses Hsihu and hopes to see Master in her dreams. In times of happiness, she feels only gratitude to Her, and at times of frustration, she never fails to remember Her advice. This poem was written at the Chin-yueh Pavilion, Jingling, Mainland China, in 2001.