“We will meet at the source of each moment, and we will meet again in different forms of life.” Dear Thay, In deep gratitude for meeting Thay and the Plum Village Sangha. Thay, it has been some time since you passed away. Still, your memory remains more alive than ever. I still remember the morning […]
death
Watch, listen, and remember. He is all around us
No one can predict the time of one’s passing. More accurately, no one can predict when one dissolves into the bloom of a flower, or returns to the sky as a cloud that is beyond creation and destruction. It was therefore natural that the Hong Kong Buddhist community’s commemoration for Thich Nhat Hanh on the […]
Goodbye, Thay
In the early hours of the morning, the Hong Kong Buddhist community received the sad news of Thich Nhat Hanh’s passing at midnight on the 22nd of January, 2022. He was 95. I last saw him in 2013, on a Plum Village retreat in Thailand. As is typical of Plum Village, we happened to take […]
Simple and Direct
A simple solution was the right solution to my meditation problem. But the principle of simplicity when applied on its own can lead to reductionism that ironically makes finding the solution to a problem even more difficult and complex. That’s because following a basic principle cannot provide a complete picture of reality. Simplicity must be […]
Getting a Kick Out of Life
I’ve never been fond of horses. They’re beautiful animals, but riding on them is an uncomfortable experience. They can also be dangerous. My karate teacher was knocked unconscious when he was violently kicked by his horse. When he eventually regained consciousness, that experience led him to reflect on the precarious nature of life. It’s what […]
A Midnight Oracle
Spread on the seagrass, curved as fishing knives, the cards of my past arrive unexpectedly, three swords piercing the heart, the only organ that won’t bleed to death, while the sleepy moon turns its encrusted eyes from molten tears falling on the gray, blushingcheeks of a corpse. I am no knight, but no one said I was. I am no devil either, although some declare […]
A Graveyard Meditation
I know the forests are burningto the charnel ground, and probably, there is little that can be done about it nowYet sometimes the best medicine is a mind of not knowing, all that has been writtenon those silken scrolls, the inner alchemy of illicit loveOr why the Nasamonians required brides to have intercoursewith many men on their […]
Nothing we see is color
Cezanne said that but no one believed himAll we really seeis light valiantly massacred the mineral-laden earth with its zillions of herbal veins and carnivorous flowers mere pinpoints of light reverberations of molecular light adorned with ornaments of human bones George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary […]
Catacombs of Domitilla
Bones as mere decor. Stored in metallic ink, eachmorning, waking without a comparison point, folded intoa cast-iron pot, fragrant withcumin, and ripe with profaneadverbs, in the unvaccinated catacombs of Domitilla. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The […]
Samsara
Bestowing only impressions of sorrow, in the butter soft leather light of new fog,a royal procession of swans announce themselves. Birth and death. Nothing is attached for long. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s […]