To Wake Up One Night and Write This Poem ~ Friday, November 6, 2026

The Heart Sutra: Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā

"Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone utterly beyond, awakening, hail!"

"Form is emptiness, emptiness is form"

In some respects, born to do poetry
not to be The Buddha but someone else

someone who resembles a character
or a person who mirrors a story
mention the mind that reflects on the mind
enter a house of mirrors, down each aisle

reflections on illusions, The Proctor
entices each person to navigate
sources on the course, the blind lead the blind
pretend to accept this makes perfect sense
everything in chaos, this delusion
consequences of past actions, nonsense
to recognize mistakes as illusion
someone must write in order to create

born not as The Buddha, but a poet
of no importance to the world at hand
remember, to convey wisdom in words
nobody understands, but they know it

to hear it, the unspoken as spoken
only the silent dead count grains of sand

do or do not do, the chatter of birds
on branches in a bush, little sparrows

poetry, the grotesque made unbroken
of the beautiful and the sublime, speak
everyone longs to hear at a service
try not to wake up from this life, to wreak
royal havoc upon the world, write in bliss
yes, celebrate Sebastian with arrows

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