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A poem by Ajahn Kalyāno about how he sees meditation as an invaluable a part of caring for those who are sick or dying: From Nurse to Chaplain – from care to prayer there I was with the bandage and the crutch listening ears tissues for tears there I always was for all those years at the time and every time it meant so much I can still smell the savlon, the soap and the desperate hope... there I was with the pooh I always knew and the blood, always a surprise sharpening the eyes there I was in the rolling tears of lost loves and in the niggling fears now it doesn’t mean so much the world of touch meaning more is a softness in the eye which knows a softness so sweet and always new like baby’s toes a softness where a given prayer giggles and wriggles itself free free to simply be such that a prayer is always there in the air a prayer that knows ‘there is life and death in every breath as it flows’ as a bandage or a crutch it doesn’t mean much it is heavy to the touch yet the prayer is there where light meets the air at the touch of light and the lightest touch such is the suchness pure and bright of the heart where we can go if we can let go and where we need never part The open owl Open The owl's soft, silent wings Open The owl's wide, wise eyes Opening the pale grey dusk Beyond the crimson sunset The rocks whisper the rocks whisper a way the trees forget over growing for the sun is pleasing and their masters are lost the forest is empty there was another life in the master’s way the trees know not here in the wilderness the trees are lonely and dream of the garden (for a garden they would be tended by loving hands their roots growing deeper the sun slanting under their boughs to warm their feet) yet the trees know not their loneliness or their dreams they are the silence that shall receive the work of the word and hold the meaning but first there must be a new path they must beckon with their humble silence the hearts of man men shall come there is solace in the silence for they are part of nature they too have forgotten and would remember they have lost their home and would return so that death has nowhere else to take them they will serve the garden which will teach them in turn beauty and transience of life they shall learn born will be the garden of the soul and mankind will have found in truth a far greater whole where death shall have no dominion The law is not shaken from the treetops By commandments gusting from heaven Blood paints history in a stillness and silence Which promises a different justice... Cool water rises from the soil Pale blue flowers awaken Forget-me-not Colours gather light and gradually fade Gently into humble pastel shade Changing the very fabric of the mind Such are the denim devas Coming to save us Refuge respect at my father's table love on my mother's knee here before and after and here before and after me
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Open The Sky - Reflective and creative work by Ajahn Kalyano
