Forest Poems 2—Tears of a Monk
24 September 2020
Tears of a Monk
The Buddha said that in our countless rebirths in samsara, the flow of tears we have shed is greater than all the water in the oceans, and therefore: ‘This is quite enough for you to become disillusioned, dispassionate, and freed regarding all conditions.’ Sometimes the suffering of the world affects us deeply, escpecially during intensive meditation when the mind becomes very sensitive. Bodhisattas who weep tears of compassion for the world are a common motif in the Mahayana tradition. Often meditators report experiencing an emotional release that brings a flood of tears. Sometimes, thinking about the kindness and generosity we have received from others can overwhelm us with tears of gratitude. And then there are tears of happiness and joy.
Silently I scream at sorrow.
Breathing deeply again now.
Whispering:
Freedom.
Escape.
Tears.
Unexpected
Unasked for
Unwanted
But needed, perhaps.
I add my tears
to the great
ocean of sorrow.
Drowning in tears
I am no use to others.
If not for me,
then,
for them.
Cheeks damp,
Sitting by the stream,
soothed by its trickling gurgle.
To be like that—
Only water, flowing.
The whole world is suffering.
My heart cannot bear it.
Instead of meditative equipoise—
a sobbing mess!
Some monk!
My heart bursts
at the sorrows
of this world.
I dry my cheeks
with my robe.
I'll not cry for long.
Out of sympathy
for my tears, perhaps,
the morning dew
still lingers on the clover.
The Buddha’s teachings—
I'll use these fallen leaves
to wipe away my tears.
Meditation tears
don’t taste of salt.
They taste of freedom.
Do not sorrow.
Do not grieve.
Seeing only the suffering
you miss the hope.