The sun is my heart – borrowing from buddhist and catholic monks
a poem, by Bruce . . .
The Sun is My Heart
Borrowing from the Buddhist monk
mindfully, with words
cannot explain away
these falling leaves of autumn
to be digested in the earth
like my dead fathers’ gone away;
as a leaf in the wind
synthesized from the sun,
and now on a humble journey
to join, the great carbon cycle
down in the earth, whence
the tree, the monk, and he came.
With the first fierce fall rains
my torrential tears flow
after the summers
newly scorching sun,
joining the headwaters
and the cold pristine
snows of either dormancy,
(this grieve struck Canadian maple)
or maybe afterlife;
from green to yellow then red
and brown, into its pure
elemental finality, of blackness.
A good man was my father,
compassionate and warm hearted
with a fierce loyalty, the obit said,
a noble and gentle spirit,
said someone who new him.
Reminding me of the Christ
he believed in, though I
a doubting Thomas, wrestling
with this universal God of the cosmos,
gaining courage from a few;
dear friends of my fathers
like the Catholic hermit (with books)
and his Meditations from the Wilderness;
or like the Buddhist monk,
dear friend of my brothers;
with him, I join in: The Sun is My Heart.
Making peace with the absolute,
insensitivities of modern day priesthoods
of commerce, growth, and religion,
seeking common ground
with others, I do join in
with the natural world, I celebrate;
and in the light, are the echoing words
for my father ; and those parables of life . . .
Well done, good and faithful servant.
October 2007 B. Thomas Witzel
July 5, 1921 – July 3, 2007
This poem was inspired in part from Thich Nhat Hanh and his book, the Sun My Heart.
Also by the deep ecologist Fr. Charles A.E.Brandt and his book, Meditations from the Wilderness.
The book was a gift from Charles to my father, and then from my father to me.
I have used quotes from it in many of my blogs.
Charles Brandt – photo by Nick Didlick
– Google images