ZEN - PATH TO ONESELF : The waterfall on the small stream

The waterfall on the small stream

First, a couple of poems written 35-40 years ago, when I first embarked on the search my self. I remembered them, because for many years have they have been for me as a program.


Do not try to return what is gone,
Turning back the clock.
You cannot when the sun has set
To return it and and pick it up.

In vain stiring up the memory
Which should be forgotten soon
The only one thing you can get -
Just putting your soul to torment.

Do not feel sorry for what’s been done.
Mourning over it there’s for nothing.
If you can remedy situation,
If you can not - be glad to it.

Glad to be at least to that good,
Which in any bad things there are.
It is still more healthy than useless
Cargo remorse to bear in your heart.


I have not burned my ships -
They has burned themselves;
I didnot destroy the bridges -
They were blown away with a wave.
So What am I waiting now?
There is only the way to goal.
The desert is all around me
And there is no way home.



The following verses were written at different times since 1991 (my first big retreat).


Five great actors on the stage empty
Are playing their game for me alone.
Sometimes they force me lough, then force to cry.
Sometimes they please me, or call up my anger ...
I didn’t waited for the play to end,
With the curtain up
Called actors from the stage
And leaving dark hall
Went in to the open.
Recently passed the rain
And the entire forest smelled with rotting leaves.
A little bird on the birch tree
Preaches to all the world
The highest Buddha’s Dharma:




Old temple is destroyed
And over its ruins
The Flowers are in bloom



The waterfall on the small stream
Is as majestic as Niagarra Falls.
The simplest food when you are hungry
Is the royal fiesta.
The pure water when you are thirsty
Is the drink of Gods.
This world is already paradise.
Why so many people
Prefer to live in hell?



Whatever you think you have – you have not.
Whatever you strive to be – you already are.
If you completely put it all down – you can play with galaxies as toys
At that time what place you can sit on?
In the frozen branch the flower buds are sleeping.




How wonderful it is to stretch one’s body
On the needle peak of Sumi Mountain!
The ten directions turned into the birds and flew away.
Moktak is hit... – time to put on kasas and go to practice.



You never will have it until you have it.
Then what can you do?
Just put it all down!
Good and bad – put it all down.
Attainments and losses - put it all down.
Nirvana, enlightenment - put it all down.
Folly and wisdom - put it all down.
Buddha and demons - put it all down.
What are you doing now?
In the evening wind small tree branch sways.
All is going sometime somewhere;
Everything appears, disappear;
But IT never moves to then and there.
It is always now in unmoving here.




Two limitless mirrors are facing each other.
Looking inside - see outside;
Looking outside – see inside.
If without inside and outside, what is it?
Good morning, sunim, glad to see you



So many years I was looking in search for my head.
A good hit with a stick has pointed directly to it.
Now everything is clear: gain and loss, life and death, truth and illusion
Are just the beads on the same string.
In mountain stream the water is flowing: BUL-BUL-BUL...
How can I help you?




Don’t know swallows whole universe with no trace.
When all illusionary opposites are completely put down,
Then blue sky and green trees disappear.
Not depending on anything, JUST DOING IT is Buddha.



This timespaceship is all your world,
Your private bubble of perception.
You cannot see it s here-now walls
Trough all that fog of mind\'s deception.
White snow is blue in full moon’s light.




How wonderful!
At last
The form is form,
The emptiness is emptines.
What a gift on the endless way!
Everything is so beautiful!
The old saying become totally clear:
The whole world is a single flower.




If to call The Mirror all and everything
Nothing but it’s own face will reflect in it.




Stones wet after rain
Grass between the stones
It is this that is IT




I, ME, My


I am in everything
But present only here
To look for me
One must to find oneself
In universe there's nothing which is "my"
World is impartible - there's nothing to divide