For Guan Yin

I have given my heart openly, to all who would hear it,
and above those voices, I heard yours the most clear,
but daily my heart is broken, a new tragedy follows at almost
every minute of the day. Until the pain is a dull sensation,
yet someday will grow into a gentle rain, that I must learn to love,
yet time, it will take time. And now, this time.

what is the wisdom in any of these moments,
when each one can bring new torrential rains, like fire,
that pass through me. I stay grounded, but in all of these
moments, the pain is so real. Each time my heart breaks,
It grows larger, over time, in moments, in eons, so vast.
As small as a single drop of water, as large as a monsoon,
That is only held in balance by the constant renewal,
healing that makes me constantly transform.

In what wisdom is this recklessness, it begins to feel
like a simple moment, a passtime, at the mercy of all.

Tonight I search the heavens, because where you are,

I just don’t know.

And then I find you, the beauty of compassion, for which
love is another world, a place I can enter, at any time.
Though I may have lost you, you are in my imagination,
and will be, for all of my time.

I wrote these lines tonight dreaming of Guan Yin, the goddess of compassion, who was my greatest hero when I first started studying Buddhism. As the tragedy of the week played out, I was brought in to complete exhaustion, from work, stress, and the reality of the murder of George Floyd. Guan Yin’s compassion and love is almost beyond understanding, an elusive figure of the mind, who still guides me in my greatest need. I haven’t needed her since almost twenty years ago, but here she was tonight, as if she never left, but was always near by, invisible, yet guiding my path and wisdom. Tonight, I will sleep well, knowing that there are levels of compassion and love that none of us can fully fathom, but can approach, even in glimpses, is still there. Waiting for us, if we ever just think to look, and listen, to the other worlds, all of our lives contain.

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