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oxymoron

(4,053 posts)
Sat Jan 14, 2012, 07:53 PM Jan 2012

Call Me by My True Names

Call Me by My True Names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Thich Nhat Hanh

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Call Me by My True Names (Original Post) oxymoron Jan 2012 OP
This is the most profound poem I've ever read. AllenVanAllen Jan 2012 #1
I agree completely. I read it often before my practice. oxymoron Jan 2012 #2
Beautiful. silverweb Jan 2012 #3
Thanks.....peace Magoo48 Jan 2012 #4
It's at first horrifying... rbnyc Feb 2012 #5

AllenVanAllen

(3,134 posts)
1. This is the most profound poem I've ever read.
Sun Jan 15, 2012, 02:24 AM
Jan 2012



It took me ten years to even understand, now it brings me to tears every time I read it.

Here's a beautiful video, set to music, visuals and the printed word. It also includes the inspiration for the poem 4:33 min.




It helped me change that way I see all of humanity. For this I am so deeply grateful.


Thank you, oxymoron

oxymoron

(4,053 posts)
2. I agree completely. I read it often before my practice.
Sun Jan 15, 2012, 04:22 AM
Jan 2012

This poem is so meaningful to me. Thank you for posting the lovely video. I love that it tells more of Thay's story.

A lotus for you, Buddha to be. _/l\_

Oxy

rbnyc

(17,045 posts)
5. It's at first horrifying...
Tue Feb 7, 2012, 09:35 PM
Feb 2012

...to me because I am a mother.

This is just my personal reaction to this beautiful poem.

It is easy to understand the poem intellectually, but to truly understand the poem, you have to be able to let go.

I am the mother who watches her son laugh upon the lawn at dusk
with a halo of fireflies
I am the mother who buries her starved child at the side of the road and continues
to march out of Somalia

I am the mother who smoothes her son’s hair in the sunlight bus stop
I am the mother who…
…it can’t be said.

Letting go of one’s attachments is a constant practice, and so difficult when you think of what there is to lose.

When all joys and pains are one—the world we live in—every terrible possibility is embraced. It is easier to live in the world untrue, especially when you fear one of those possibilities touching your child.

In my personal search for enlightenment, it is hard for me to even talk about this issue. I am reluctant to invite being tested on it.

For disclosure, since it’s my first time posting here, I am not a Buddhist, in that I don’t identify as a Buddhist. I love Buddhist literature and stories and teachings and ideas. I love literature from many philosophies, religions and traditions.

(My father has said that he is a Buddhist.)

I love this poem, and I believe in its truth. It rips me open, and in this moment, brings to me a place where I stop, scared. That’s where I am.

Thanks for sharing.

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