The Night Butterflies, The Shell, And Human
For QT - remembering our trolling along the Oakland hills

Should I be an ephemera,
attracting this frenzied world
who wants to kiss the light
before ending its life—
at least a moment of the glorious night?
Incandescence makes us lose our way

as well as direction in life
and in endless struggling
in this realm of death and rebirth.
Should I be a shell/scallop

living in the deep ocean
quietly evolved
minding/plying our distant realms?
The shell has its sound:
mellow as waves of the ocean.
When we’re fully paying attention,
we can hear the ocean echoing.
May I be the human

roaming this beautiful earth,
helping life whenever I can?
Compassion is the merit.
May I be the human,


even though there are hardships
just sharing our loves and haves?
A legacy of oneself—
the state of being of the mind and heart.


Oakland Hills, CA. June 2nd, 2013.

Human and Nature

Look up at the high sky;
It is so blue,
vast immense blue.
Look around:
The aging redwoods,
majestic,
forever.
I realized how tiny we really are!

Comes and Goes

It is cold.
Winter is on its way,
A sleeping town,
The trees are bare of all leaves,
Wide roads, deserted by,
Heavy rain dances every episode,
Ragged leaves lie on the ground,
Yet there are rays of intrigue sunshine,
Leaves are lying about in disorder
and are in the way and wet.
Yet I realized the sequence of nature:
Bud-Flower-Leaf-Branch,
Spring-Summer-Fall-Winter,
or Form-Develop-Change-Emptiness,
or Birth- Develop-Change-Death.
The rain is dancing once again,
A few worms move to higher ground
from the saturated water to find life.
And where is it from?
Is it the Law of Cause and Effect or Creator?
And where is it going then?
Comes and goes,
Gone and came.
Amid the chilled cold,
suffering and dissatisfaction,
I avoid touching it.
Surely it will be scolded,
Death or as bait for birds,
The dying body, this body
like Tibetans are one-time sacrificing for others,
Enrich the others and/or continuation.
No traces of the grave (tomb).
Finally disappeared;
The silent withered flowers,
Footsteps are bathed with the heartbeats.
Where are we going?
From where are we coming?
Karma and Laws of Cause and Effect:
Infinite
Interdependence
Infinite—
A fine path between the two sides.

Sacramento, December 1st, 2012.

Homeland

Moonlight is shimmering brightly at midnight.
Forever, we remember our homeland—
Shallow tears and blood,
Golden sea, mountain and land.

Sacramento, CA, Spring 2013

Early Morning

In an early morning,
the birds start singing,
Waking up.
Dew starts to form.
Listen deeply to the surroundings,
The heartbeats were bathed in the emptiness,
in harmony with peacefulness.

Silent Moon

The window’s curtain is wide open.
The moonlight is immense,
It shines shyly through the room.
What a passionate kiss!

May, 2005

A Beautiful Afternoon

We’re in Lake Tahoe,
a beautiful quiet lake.
Its water is turquoise,
reflecting in your hair,
floating like the free white cloud.
What a beautiful place,
Nursed our dream,
An afternoon nap
just faded!

Sugar Pine Point State Park - Meeks Bay, CA

Fragile Happiness

Is the mountain covered with snow
or is it my hair getting gray?
The frost, the snow and the cold are
the beauty of this world.
The morning sunshine is so bright and sparkling.
A place of nothingness, a breath away.

Peaceful Steps

Which flowers covered the still lake?
I remembered the cherry blossom season
with its poetic rhythms.
Was it the rain of flower petals or your hair floating freely?
As the gentle breeze blew.
Was it a virtual dream or reality?

The Road to Kim Sơn Monastery

It’s misty one early morning,
The fog flows softly with slight wind blowing,
The curving tiny road to the Monastery
greeting us with autumn leaves,
covering and falling on the road.

Cherry Blossom Festival

A golden sunny day with gentle wind,
We walk along the mellow and romantic Potomac River,
Millions of cherry flower blossoms
amongst countless sparkling smiles.

Their scent is flying by,
Stroking and kissing the thin mantles.
Its petals are soft, white and elegant,
Loving this experience, beauty and attraction,
we sit here with our legs dangling.
Flutters in the east wind direction,
Oh, how many realms of gloominess
dissolve in the emptiness.

Cherry flowers
serve as messengers
of mutual respect, understanding and love,
For it’s true beauty and meaning forever-lasting with hope,
We now ought to plant the seeds of kindness.

Washington D.C., April 12th, 2014.

Fragrance Of Hoa Quỳnh (Queen of the Night Flower)

The sixteenth night of a summer lunar month unfolds.
Who is waiting for each other?
The parted clouds just show the moon,
Hoa quỳnh blooms
as snow white to show its elegance and pureness.
With sureness quỳnh’s extremely rare magnificence soothes our souls.
Its blossom lifespan is about four hours
and short as a scroll.
If life begins and ends within that blossom’s lifespan,
what do we do in between?
The beauty of the here and now.
…Time is bobbing as a thread.
Quỳnh’s fragrance is so alluring
and makes us float like a web in the wind.
The fragrance of the Queen of the Night Flower.

Ngọc Anh Flower

Ngọc Anh flower is pure and elegant,
Its beauty and fragrance will soon fade,
Yet tonight it is lovely and charming.
What indifference when we are interdependent.

The Sound of The Snoqualmie Waterfall

A beautiful golden autumn
lying in the middle of the forest,
The rhythms of the sobbing heart
circulating to its source,
listening to the music of the leaves falling,
the high floating clouds,
the calm wind,
and the echoes of the waterfall—
Majestic.
Snoqualmie Waterfall, Washington.

An Autumn Afternoon

A chilled autumn
in an untrodden forest,
Your hair is flying,
Nursery clouds,
Zephyr,
Germinate drunkenness,
Heavens just ended.

Your Unique Garden
For a friend, NHLD

The beauty of nature is often expressed in its stillness, silence, peace—
Majestic but gentle as moonlight.
It is natural and has a nuance just like spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
There is happiness in this vast and impermanent world,
There are always wonderful moments,
And I know one thing for sure—
As in nature,
You are like that!
As-is.

Waiting for Each Other

Waiting for you, the fall leaves seem apathetic.
The golden autumn sheds leaves: separating life and death.
The light rain becomes shimmering particles,
Your love is like the falling leaves
wandering impermanence.
Sacramento, Thanksgiving Day
Run To Feed The Hunger - 2011

Greeting Each Other

I am departing again in a hurry.
A snail greets me as I leave,
Who stands gently still?
Smiling and bowing to each other!

On the Hill of Life and Death

In the middle of the sacred forest,
listening to the sutra’s chanting.
What a mystical place and space—
shimmering and uplifting.
The forest bird songs are orchestrating,
and beautiful sunshine is a gift,
A dimly pale moon still exudes its striking moonlight.
Herbs intoxicating the insects,
Sutra’s verse intoxicating me,
The bell invites me—an opportunity to awake all beings.
Suddenly I realize we are living in the wonderful
yet impermanent world.
Boulder Creek, CA, April 2013

Horse and Thought

Wild horses on the rolling hills
enjoy the fresh dew on green grass.
A floating white cloud, the vast blue sky—
Free and endless.

Pebbles

White sand and blue sky,
An eternal pebble,
round and cute,
Listening to the songs
of the vast ocean
as the waves crash down
upon the ground,
rushing toward us,
then they stop.
Just where we’re tanning,
Relaxing in the sand,
Realizing everything has its course,
Ocean waves, like most,
are continuously changing,
and so do we…?
Hawaii, Winter 2004.

Coming back

The chilling autumn arrives as colorful leaves fall softly,
Wild flowers disperse their perfume
and fallen leaves lay shaking.
At the same time, the salmon battle upstream to their roots
from the deep ocean far, far away,
The fish search for their roots
to give birth and pass on before they die.
The beauty is that they’re back at the same place
where they were once born and grew up.
Oh, the salmon,
or any species like that.
So many generations
keep coming back
to their own roots.
…And do we?
Wandering persons without a direction
toward the sunrise.
The chilling autumn arrives as colorful leaves fall softly,
Wild flowers disperse their perfume and fallen leaves lay shaking.

The Impermanent Flower
For Sister Nguyên Lợi

As impermanent as a flower in this dreamy life,
Lotus blossom inside the Zen gate—a place to escape.
Your Dharma name, True Belief as you’re practicing
Discipline, Concentration, and Wisdom,
will help you reach your true Buddha nature.

The Wilderness of Bảo Pháp Monastery

It was a very late night with the moon illuminating.
In this holy mountain, the wind talks with the stars.
The music plays as the water rushes through the rocks;
The sound of the universe is echoing.
I realized how tiny we are in this majestic nature.
My heartbeat is in rhythm with thousands of stars.
And my individual energy is merging with the universal one.
Oh emptiness! Do you taste the impermanence?
Azusa, Southern California

A Beautiful Beginning
In the memory of...

A Prajñā ferry
heads across the Perfume River
like a freely wind
under a Surangama moonlight.

Dew of Dust

Love is like dust, just swept away
along with the endless cycle of rebirth.
Disillusioned lips—still dreaming.
With the immense blue sea,
the coconut trees are singing.
Your beauty is pure; an essence and a treasure.
Emotional disengagement like standing
on the cliff’s edge as a pleasure.
Just like a romantic wanderer lets things go,
Love is like dust that has just escaped its form—
It’s now formless.

Turn Them Off Now!
For my wonderful friends, QK and their children

Please turn on the lights; turn them off now!
So we can clearly see this home,
your love, my love, the love for our children.
Let us see our core values within
that give us happiness, suffering, despair or pity,
Those that might take almost a lifetime to build,
but only an hour to destroy.
Please turn on the lights; turn them off now!
So you can clearly see this life—
It is fragile and impermanent.
Why don’t we see the dew
shimmering
like our love?
Or maybe it is only just the raindrops from the eyes.
Please turn on the lights; turn them off now!
Don’t we see the wild firestorm
like a tornado of our time;
endless nostalgia?
The mountain of anger is extinguishing
our merit on love, a prayer for you, a prayer for me
and a prayer for our family.
The future is endlessly full of beauty, dream and hope,
or just a flap of sunlight in the wind or sun-fire.
The dust does not obscure our essence nor our path.
The old trail of love, tolerance, forgiveness and loving-kindness is still forever nurtured…
Please turn on the lights!

Little River

Bitter cold wind,
heavy rain,
a feeling of sadness,
The memory of sunny homeland rushed in,
Age of innocence,
enjoying grade school,
That long hair may still be the most beautiful sign,
Sing within the air,
Love sound of that wind,
Small river
flows with the love of desert.
What a legendary childhood,
A peaceful sea wave,
A full moonlit night,
A dream,
Rain still poured outside the patio,
Suddenly realized half my playful life just passed by.
East to west, the sky was still not bright yet
to hobble on an uneven path,
Echoes of yesterday
or calls of tomorrow,
The howling wind is constantly
reminding me to enjoy the present moment.
Sacramento Jan. 2012.

Loving Life and Building Self-esteem
To our adolescents

Our dear young adolescents,
You are beautiful and charming,
We are obligated to be pious,
Studying and practicing well at school.
You are the bright future,
Thus love this beautiful life and build your self-esteem,
Be a giver and contributor to mankind,
That is the beauty of great GĐPT’s love.*

We Have Each Other
For the Ca Hát Bên Nhau 2’s performers and audience.

In this wonderful night, we’re singing for each other
under colored lights in a relaxed environment.
Exquisite
with the floating stars glittering,
The artists’ souls are conceding,
Many song lyrics are worth listening to such as
“If either, one of us, is thoughtful at first; then we...”
Perhaps music is an affordable psychotherapy
to the lost souls and tumbled down minds—
loneliness, helplessness and sadness.
In life, there are shortcomings,
broken situations and/or love,
Music can be comforting and healing,
It seems someone was crying pity in her heart.

Oh, the bittersweet past.
Or is it a heartfelt reminder
about this fragile and impermanent life
like the dew drops just formed?
The autumn winds blow by
as ocean bubbles pop,
the clouds disperse
or the evening thunder discharges
before the gloomy situation/love/life.
Please help, transform and love each other constantly
in this endless cycle of life,
As the night unfolds, the music
is more sparkling and deepening.
All the artists sing with all their pretty hearts,
with enthusiastic, sincere vibes and for the love of art—
of all the audiences, performers and the people involved.
In this wonderful night, we’re singing together
under colored lights in a relaxed environment—
exquisite
ecstatic
We have each other.

Kim Quang Temple, August 31, 2013

A Catholic Girl
For Simone and Điền

Holding the lotus above the head
as if holding the whole earth,
your Vietnamese áo dài* is flying
as the rhythm of the falling leaf.
Holding the lotus above the head

as if holding your God’s mind
while sowing a Bodhi seed deep,
your enlightenment, indeed, will sprout.
Holding the lotus above the head
as if holding the impermanence,
The dew dances with the guitar’s sound,
True emptiness is not a lonely path.
At the vegetarian fundraising dinner for
Thien Truc Temple in San Jose.
Sacramento, November 13, 2011.

The Moon - Emptiness, And Astronaut Neil Armstrong
In loving memory of the first person on the Moon

The blue moon
suspended
fragile.
The cold night forms dew
on the golden leaves - glittering
midnight, the wind just comes
whispering with clusters of bamboo
endless heart.
Remembering our hero - Neil Armstrong
departing this world
as a crane freely flying home in the late afternoon.
Fame and power
as fragile as foam
as impermanent as moss.
Tossed aside
changing clothes
with a peace in mind
floating into emptiness.

New Pope - New Hope

The bells are ringing at the Vatican,
The Roman Catholic Church has a new pope
with new direction and hope.
May our peace in the world spread
as thousands of people at the St. Peter’s Basilica
in Vatican city are cheering for the betterment
of the church and many hearts and minds,
as well as for the greater good of mankind.
Congratulations!
Let’s bring on the celebration,
The present is a precious gift.

Sacramento, March 11, 2013 at 11:25AM

Nelson Mandela, Mandela, Mandela, Nelson Mandela
In memorial of the former South African President

He is a symbol of endurance, of courage, of faith, and of hope.
He is also a symbol of reconciliation, of social justice
and of compassion,
He is Nelson Mandala who just passed away at the age of 95.
He is the global hero with virtues:
peaceful, tolerant, and forgiving—
who brought peace to his people, to his nation,
and to the African continent.
He was a great hero to humanity,
As a wise and determined leader,
he brought dignity, human rights
and freedom across the globe.
He was a wonderful bright star that just passed by this universe.
Everything in this world—
If it has a beginning, it has an ending,
But through his dignity, values, ethics, and karma,
he will live on forever,
An incense with a silent prayer for him:
To have peace in the eternity.

The Cry of War

The other day on 89.3FM National Public Radio,
I listened to the anguished cry of a Lebanese woman
who just lost her husband and kids to Israel’s bombs.
Oh, a suffering cry like that…
It was harsh to the listeners,
and I cried with her.
Suddenly I found myself in that anguished cry
of the young woman.
I realized that I am a victim of the war.
It’s all about death, suffering, endless separations
and shattered lives.
I see that I am a young Lebanese woman
who is angry and demonstrates hatred.
She cries for the loss of her family.
I also see myself as an exhausted Israeli
who defends their people from the endless ray of missiles,
and I see myself as an arrogant American
who sells destructive and deadly weapons to Israel.
Oh, with many differences, “selfish”
came from the “self-love” or ego-ness.
Oh, that tiny ego;
Oh, ignorance, inconceivable.
Hatred should not pay back with hatred, but with true love.
There is nothing to lose by sitting down with one another.
Why don’t we understand each other?
Your loss is also my loss;
Your anguish is also my anguish;
Your suffering amounts, mine is no less.
Same with religion and real life:
Deep down, we are all no different when
Our blood is all red, and the sweat is salty.
So, we must understand one another.
From the suffering of war,
May we find the source of happiness.
Mira Loma H.S.
May, 2006

Tattoo

A late teenage girl, X, in her full blossom
And a young gentleman, Y, in his curious yet charming years.
Experiencing the same phenomenon: getting a tattoo.
A red rose lies on the girl’s lower back;
A green dragon spits out fire on his muscular arm,
as if making a statement:
“I am an adult, I can do anything.” (as I once wished.)
Time passes… 20 years is so quick in a human life!
Those beautiful teenage years, now just the past.
On the beach, a divorced woman, X, with the red rose
on her lower back;
That red tattoo now is crumbling and wrinkling.
Doesn’t it look weird? An older woman in her swimming suit with wrinkled tattoos;
And the gentleman, Y, with the green dragon having already spit out all of the smoke.
Where’s the muscle? What’s left behind is just wrinkled skin—nameless.
Oh, is that a tattoo or a scar for the future?
Is it really the tattoo or a scar of the heart?
UC Davis, Spring 2001.

The Road Home

The road home greets me with green bamboos
and beautiful creeks and white beaches with gentle winds,
There are kids selling merchandise once the sunset sings,
There are many more tiny shops than factories,
There are many more beautiful and expensive graves than the houses people live in,
There is the gentleness and beauty of the countryside,
There is bright moonlight and the wind blows sudden poem lines.
But there are things that are difficult
to absorb and describe:
The beautiful creeks are places
for people to dump their trash,
The light-less streets are the hanging-out
place of many couples.
There are changes, but they seem
slow, old, outdated, and meaningless,
Like the propaganda:
“Let’s keep our environment clean, green and beautiful.”
But it is all about trash. Trash is everywhere,
This trash outweighs the leftovers
of the Asian tsunami of 2004,
I hope this trash transforms into flowers in the near future.
Vietnam, Summer 2005.

Driving to the Market

The beautiful state capital of California, the Golden State.
Sacramento is the “City of Trees.”
The city is diverse, dynamic and prosperous,
The trees displace their colorful leaves in the autumn.
One weekend, I drove to the market,
through a rough neighborhood.
Suddenly, a personal thought arose
while driving on Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd.,
The street named after a famous reverend
and a late great civil rights leader.
There lay piles of trash;
Trash everywhere,
from used furniture to outdated televisions,
block after block.
We know what people consume
by seeing their garbage.
A life of materialism;
a nation of waste…
And trash on the street,
The city is not cleaning up;
Trash exposed everywhere like in a third-world country,
an abandoned neighborhood.
Once in a while I hear about shooting in this neighborhood,
but this is the first time I’ve seen it.
Such degradation, it is an insult
to the father of the civil rights movement.
On the same street at the corner of 47th Street,
there are undocumented immigrants standing around
to be picked up ready for hard labor.
These poor and hardworking gentlemen
who do the jobs that most Americans don’t want—
Once they earn their pay, where does the money go?
Perhaps, like the majority of immigrants,
they send it back to their loved ones
on the other side of the border.
In reality, life is just a circle in this impermanent world.
…On the weekend,
I drove to the market…
(Who would know a drive to the market could be so eye-opening!)

Sacramento, Spring 2006.

A Frontier Musician

The guitar with three strings left,
He’s still singing out his lungs,
The song of the immense fighter spirit,
of the fearless warrior.