Friday

Living Guru

A doha by Linda Lewis, offered as part of our series of expressions of love leading up to this year’s Shambhala / Valentine’s Day celebration.

I think of the guru
I remember Trungpa Rinpoche.
I remember the wide smile and Cheshire teeth,
the cowboy shirt with suspenders,
and sometimes a cowboy hat.
I think of the crazy wisdom guru and remember velvet eyes looking over glass rims.
I think of the guru.
I remember Chogyam’s chubby hands gracefully playing with a vajra,
skillfully playing with a damaru,
or holding a glass to his lips,
sipping and setting the glass soundlessly down while teaching dharma.
Distracted, I’d watch and forget to listen.
But his movements were dharma too.
I remember the guru,
walking like mahakala, holding a kasung’s hand.
I remember the guru,
I remember his giggling while dribbling rice on my head or tickling me on the sofa.
I remember the guru,
his pride in his wife and sons.
I think of the guru–
his face sweating before the Karmapa’s first visit.
I think of the guru,
his tears of joy greeting and parting from His Holiness Khyentse Rinpoche.
I remember Trungpa Rinpoche
and the various experiential ways he pointed out the true nature of mind.
I remember the Druk Sakyong, suddenly self-arisen monarch in yellow robes,
proclaiming the Great Eastern Sun
not exactly to be confused with the dawn of Vajrasattva.
I remember the guru
screeching the Shambhala Anthem.

Decades have passed and new old photos appear,
but better than remembering,
the first signs of his Kingdom can be seen
And I feel the guru smiling as he moves from Dewachen to
Glorious Copper Colored Mountain to
Akanishta to Shambhala–
enjoying the realms spiritual and temporal.
And I feel the guru living in my heart.