Om Mani Padme Hum

in every breath, an ache,
dukkha's whisper, a slow fire
that consumes the heart
longing for what's lost, or yet
to be, in this fleeting form.

in the depths of craving's sea
a hunger that cannot be fed,
roots of pain take hold
like a weed that chokes the heart
suffering's dark, endless seed.

in the hollow of want
where craving's fire once raged,
I find the stillness
of a flame that's lost its fuel,
freedom in the ashes born.

in worn sandals, I walk.
eightfold path unwinding like
river stones beneath
suffering's tides slowly recede,
freedom's gentle, rustling breath

not to take a life

not even the mosquito
that buzzes in my ear
at dawn's earliest light,
its hunger a reminder
of the world's insatiable.

not to take what's not given

not the neighbor's silence,
not the stranger's glance,
not the earth's last breath,
each thing a gift
unwrapped with intention.

not to indulge in excess

not the sweetness that numbs,
not the touch that forgets,
not the pleasure that consumes.
each sense a doorway,
to the world's vastness.

not to speak what's untrue

not the words that wound,
not the lies that soothe,
not the silence that betrays,
each tongue a flame
that illuminates or burns.

not to cloud the mind

not the smoke that veils,
not the drink that dulls,
not the haze that confuses,
each breath a clarity
that reveals the path.

the eightfold path unwinds

like a river through my days,
each step a choice,
each breath a chance
to walk the narrow way
that leads to freedom's shore.

right understanding

falls like a bruise on my skin,
the weight of knowing what I've done.
to the ones I love, the ones I've lost,
the ghosts that haunt my every step

right thought

is a river I've yet to learn,
how to navigate its treacherous bends
where desire and aversion converge
and the currents of my heart are torn.

right speech

a tongue that's learned to hold its fire,
to speak the truth without the flames
that consume the ones who listen,
leaving only ash and bitter taste.

right action

is a path I've yet to take,
where every step is a choice to make,
to harm or to heal to bind or to free,
the consequences of which I'll see.

right livelihood

a life that's lived without the stain
of exploitation and greed's dark gain,
where every breath is a chance to give,
and every hand is a hand that lifts

right effort

is the struggle to begin
to let go of the weights that pin
me to the ground, to rise above
the undertow of my own self-love.

right mindfulness

is the art of being present still,
in the midst of life's turbulent desire
to observe the waves that crash and roar
without being swept away once again.

right concentration

is the focus of a steady gaze,
that pierces through life's noisy shouting,
to find the peace that lies within
the stillness that myself will be victorious.