living in this moment

That which is whispered.

The whisper of the bones is empty.

The whisper of the dirt is empty.

On days of solid steel

and nights that are riveted into place

we answer to whispers.

We answer to the truth.

But what is truth?

Did someone ask that?

If you cannot see the truth

you might as well be blind.

If you cannot hear the truth

you might as well be deaf.

Whisper to the bones.

Say one word; yes.

Whisper to the dirt.

Say one word; yes.

The truth isn't one thing for you

and another for everyone else.

Go now. There is nothing more

about this that I could ever tell you.

James Lee Jobe

Light from the moon of clear mind

Drinks up everything in the world:

When ‘mind’ and ‘light’ both disappear,

What is this?

Death poem of Kyong Ho Sunim (1846-1912)

Q and A

So you're a Buddhist now?
What to you think happens when we die?
Those were his questions.
Yes, I am, I told him. I don't know what happens next
and it doesn't matter anyway.
It doesn't matter?
No, I want to live in this moment, now.
I started walking away.
Wait a minute, I'm not done!
Too bad; I am.

James Lee Jobe

Arm for a pillow,

watching gemlike raindrops

from the eaves, alone.

Basho (1644-1694)

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James