"Haiku: Eastern Culture" - Translations and commentary by Reginald H. Blyth
A haiku is not a poem, it is not literature;
it is a hand becoming,
a door half-opened,
a mirror wiped clean.
It is a way of returning to nature,
to our moon nature,
our cherry blossom nature,
our falling leaf nature,
in short, to our Buddha nature.
"The Superlative Horse" retold by Deng Ming Tao
Duke Mu of Qin said to Bo Le, his best judge of horses: “You are growing old. Could I ask your sons to find horses for me in your place?”
Bo Le replied: “Anyone can find an excellent horse by looking at its build, its color, its muscles, and its bone structure. But only a rare few can find a superlative horse that raises no dust and leaves no tracks. Although my sons have the talent to find excellent horses, they cannot see a superlative horse. However, I do have a friend named Gao who is a firewood and vegetable hawker. His ability to choose horses is as good as mine. Please talk to him.”
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"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?" by Anthony de Mello
The master imprints his wisdom in the heart of his disciples, not in the pages of a book. The disciple might carry this wisdom for thirty or forty years, hidden in his heart, until he meets someone ready to receive it. Such was the tradition of Zen.
Zen Poem — Ikkyu
Every day priests minutely examine the Dharma (universal law)
and endlessly chant complicated sutras.
Before doing that, though,
they should learn how to read the love letters
sent by the wind and rain,
the snow and moon.
“The Hero Path" by Joseph Campbell
We have not even to risk the adventure alone
for the heroes of all time have gone before us.
The labyrinth is thoroughly known ...
we have only to follow the thread of the hero path.
And where we had thought to find an abomination
we shall find a God.
"The Guru’s Cat” by Anthony de Mello
When the guru sat down to worship each evening, the ashram cat would get in the way and distract the worshippers. So he ordered that the cat be tied during evening worship.
“Blindness” by Keith Basar
As a war-weary soul
pursues some form of finality,
the Light,
that lit the hearts of humans
fell prey to sadistic shadows.
There, carnality found insanity it's logical end.
And the heart
turning diabolical, devoid of heat
became a psychological wasteland
absent of color or being.
“Water and Earth” by Keith Basar
He was conceived on the highest mountain slopes — where clouds and stone embrace in holy communion. From a single droplet to a milieu of many, he moved gravitationally downward —encountering parched desserts — renewing along the way, always bound by the pull of destiny.
Currents within him swirled to and fro — sometimes facing fierce storms, relentless winds…
“Concentration” — Author Unknown
After winning several archery contests, the young and rather boastful champion challenged a Zen master who was renowned for his skill as an archer. The young man demonstrated remarkable technical proficiency when he hit a distant bull's eye on his first try, and then split that arrow with his second shot.
'There,' he said to the old man, 'see if you can match that!'
“A Celebration of Death” by Chuang Tzu
Upon hearing of the death of Chuang Tzu's wife, his good friend Hui Tzu went over to comfort him and found the sage sitting on the ground banging on an overturned pot and singing a song at the top of his lungs.