All Fall Down

FALLING UP AND DOWN

1.

In change

we see the range

of all experience,

in ceaseless sensation,

Is there a winding down of motion,

loco motion,

past commotion

into stillness?

Motion ceases,

yet, motion never was,

Only time undulating

in space,

An antinomy

a panoply,

we cannot know.

I turn down the volume
    of the world,
But filled with trouble,
    the treble turns up,
And my ego
    shrill,
        still from its fall,
Plays out its full range
    of nuances,
        nuisances, all.

When we throw ourselves

into things,

We throw ourselves away:

immersion,

submersion.

We play all the time,

high and wild,

wild and blind,

Filled with trying.

fed up with crying

We sigh,

"From the beginning, nothing is."

"From nothing, nothing comes."

But the house

has the advantage here --

We are serious in our play,

a serious mistake,

And the world,

well, does it really

mutter

matter,

mother?

At the altar

Of each moment's

seriality,

we watch for an opening,

no triviality.

But if we seek a birth
in a place of plenitude,
It means we're still in servitude,
And that captivity,
is our reality.

Planetary service
    is not for tenderloins
        or pearly loins,
Each Buddha to be
    learns to wait
Through many lives,
    till there arrives

a motion
    picture
    showing
        suffering
slowing
            down

And the rise of
something finer--

the still life
    hidden in the
        flicking pages of a book
once alive,
    then, pressed,
        now decompressed
The butterfly
    returns to life
        refreshed
            refleshed,

Motion,
    has cast off commotion
And has learned
    both to move
        and to be at rest.

    This,
        for matter is best,
    A state
        of blessedness.

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from Reissues, New Issues- 1998 Poems on Buddhist Themes
by Paul L. Dolinsky
Copyright 1998 Paul L. Dolinsky
All Rights Reserved
pdolan@taconic.net
buddhistpoems.com