Lasang

I recently spent two weeks at Karme Choling, the Shambhala meditation center in Barnett Varmont.  The founder of Shambhala, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, was cremated there upon his death and lay in state in the shrine room where we practiced. This has always been a powerfully special place for me.  This poem was written during that retreat. I offer it in honor of the Vidyadhara, CTR in recognition of the anniversary of his death on April 4.

Lasang

my teacher made this room

placed these posts, laid out

this floor where his corpse would lie

in this room at the foot of this hill

where his body would burn

we are all burning through this life

as if we were each the bright hot tip

of the fuse.  where does a Buddha go

once the smoke has cleared?

I can see his red round face, feel

his strong back against mine

come with me he says, climb this hill

follow me into the fire, we have

just one heart, this single flame

and we must all burn together

© J.A. Fink, 2013Image

One thought on “Lasang

  1. I am reminded by your poem that the fire of life, of consciousness, burns in all of us. I am also remided that it is my job, my responsibility to fan that fire. It will not consume me, but take me places I could never dream of going without that bright flame. Thanks for the reminder Jeff (on this rainy Sunday morning in Park City).

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