Somedays, the illusions of our karmic shadows appear to weave patterns of light and shade
and we, bemused and confused, still think that there is much to do
One morning, as the longing thought for my Guru ached so deeply in my heart,
With such intensity as to melt the sun itself,
This little song appeared, on the verges of my mind,
not free yet but no longer fearing without nearly there and then knowing or been aware I do-
not free yet but no longer hoping without noticing soon how tenously colourful that rainbow is
not free yet but no longer seing situations as really existing,they are truly mirages in the desert of our delusions
not free yet but no longer looking at others thinking they understand,know or realise what happens
not free yet but no longer thinking "others" as defined entities who must be loved or hated- the multifarous display of purity roaming across perfect mandalas
not free yet but no longer thinking something tangible has to be purified;the View is the unbridled mind naturally being
not free yet but fully having engaged whilst shown the unmistakable one taste of freedom ;this natural being as it is without holding
So what else would I want to do with the rest of that chimera we call life?
Successions of bardos dissolve even with the notion of time
Moments of life and death are so undeterminate,how can we be so sure when what is?
Moments of dream and wakfulness are so undeterminate,what do we choose to label?
Moments of before and after only rest upon the now;where do you ever catch the flight of the bird in the endless sky?
Ultimately even his shadow appearing on the ground is, itself, a weightless flight.
this song I owe Drubwang Penor Rinpoche my pearless Tsawa’i Lama,
the words I owe Khenchen Tsewang Gyamtso and his precious Teachings of JIgme Lingpa last chapters of the Yonten Dzo,
I dedicate it to all the flights across the boundless skies to attain perfect Awareness,effortlessly and spontaneously