A Hundred Flowers to Awareness and Death
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Who sees all that is seen? Who breathes? Who talks and who becomes silent? Am I my name? Am I what society made me? Am I my identity? Do I cease to exist when my name and identity are gone? Who remains even when they no longer are? The poems in this anthology celebrate two tools that help weed out the recurring junk of name and identity -- awareness and death. The tool of death sharpens the tool of awareness. Like rain settles the contaminants suspended in the air, a periodic shower of remembering our impermanence washes away the pollutants dirtying our mind and gives uninterrupted access to p...
Who sees all that is seen? Who breathes? Who talks and who becomes silent? Am I my name? Am I what society made me? Am I my identity? Do I cease to exist when my name and identity are gone? Who remains even when they no longer are? The poems in this anthology celebrate two tools that help weed out the recurring junk of name and identity -- awareness and death. The tool of death sharpens the tool of awareness. Like rain settles the contaminants suspended in the air, a periodic shower of remembering our impermanence washes away the pollutants dirtying our mind and gives uninterrupted access to pure awareness, in which everything is. The hundred poems in this collection are hymns to those two tools -- the tool of remembering our mortal nature and the tool of watching the nature of our awareness.
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