As no one desires the slightest suffering
nor ever has enough of happiness,
there is no difference between myself and others,
so let me make others joyfully happy.
May those feeble with cold find warmth,
and may those oppressed with heat be cooled
by the boundless waters that pour forth
from the great clouds of the Bodhisattvas.
May the rains of lava, blazing stones and weapons
from now on become a rain of flowers,
and may all battling with weapons
from now on be a playful exchange of flowers.
May the naked find clothing,
the hungry find food;
may the thirsty find water
and delicious drinks.
May the frightened cease to be afraid
and those bound be freed;
may the powerless find power,
and may people think of benefiting one another.
For as long as space endures
and for as long as living beings remain,
until then may I too abide
to dispel the misery of the world.

Santideva

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows – then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and the thunder and lightening proclaim the majesty of the sky, – then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.”

And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

Kahlil Gibran

Hand in hand with angels,
through the world we go;
Brighter eyes are on us
than we blind ones know.
Tender voices cheer us
than we deaf will own;
Never, walking heavenward,
can we walk alone.
Hand in hand with angels,
some are out of sight,
leaving us, unknowing,
into paths of light.

Lucy Laroom

There is a grace approaching

that we shun as much as death.
It is the completion of our birth.

It does not come in time, but in timelessness
when the mind sinks into the heart
and we remember who we are.

It is an insistent grace that draws us
to the edge and beckons us to surrender
safe territory and enter our enormity.

We know we must pass beyond knowing
and fear the shedding.

But we are pulled upward
nonetheless
through forgotten ghosts
and unexpected angels
realizing it doesn’t make sense
to make sense anymore

This morning the universe danced before you
as you sang — it loves that song!

Stephen and Ondrea Levine

You shall ask
What good are dead leaves
And I will tell you
They nourish the sore Earth.
You shall ask
What reason is there for winter
And I will tell you
To bring about new leaves.
You shall ask
Why are the leaves so green
And I will tell you
Because they are rich with life.
You shall ask
Why must summer end
And I will tell you
So that leaves can die.

Nancy Wood

Pain is a treasure, for it contains mercies.
The kernel is soft when the rind is scraped off.
Oh brother, the place of darkness and cold
is the fountain of life in the cup of ecstasy.
So also is endurance of pain and sickness and disease.
For from abasement proceeds exultation.
The spring seasons are hidden in the autumns.
And the autumns are charged with springs.

Rumi

Matthew 18:10-14

Holy One,
how long,
how long
until we realize that it is love
which set the stars in place
and binds the planets in their orbits?

How long until we understand that the cardinal’s whistle
is a love song,
a canticle of praise for the lover,
and that Earth’s long journey through this cosmos
is the time it is taken to awaken to Love’s embrace?

How long until we realize that we are here,
not to increase net worth,
but to awaken to our own intrinsic value
as Love’s progeny.
You are the hidden heart of the cosmos,
and when we turn our attention to the affairs of the heart,
there we find you,
smiling,
from everywhere and everyone,
joyous to know that another lost soul has been found.
Amen.

Bruce Sanguin

To every one of us there must come a time when the whole universe will be found to have been a dream, when we find the soul is infinitely better than its surroundings. It is only a question of time, and time is nothing in the infinite.

Shirdi Sai Baba

You waited until you were alone.
Death is a private thing.
You knew your last act
was to a different audience.

As it entered you–
oh how you must’ve danced!
curving toward God,
elegant and alone.

Dear one, what is it like?
Tell us! What is death?

Birth,
you say, your voice swathed in wings.
I am born in the endless beginning.
I am not. I am.

You start turning into us,
we love you.
You weap in our sadness,
and laugh when we do,
you greet each moment fresh,
when we do.

So may your gift of loving enter our own
and be with us that way, forever.

Elias Amidon

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across landscapes,
over the prairies in the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
the family of things.

Mary Oliver