Flowers in the Sky
By Michael P. Garofalo
In a flaming burst,
they kiss the earth,
shout to the sky:
"White! Pink! Yellow!"
Orchards of plums and peaches,
Acres of mustard-greens.
From the Ten Directions:
Spring brings on flowers,
Flowers bring on Spring.
Coming, here, gone:
Flowers in the Sky.
In the blink of one false eye,
In the blink of One True Eye,
Flowers in the empty sky;
Shimmering, scented ... gone,
Gone, gone, gone far beyond
Their seeds of arising.
But, staying, Here-Now,
A Great Marvel of Manifestation.
Bodhisvattas - for the bees.
Soil, sun, rain, sky ...
Four Elements embracing,
Intertwined in mind.
Unfathomable Matrix;
Scaffolds on scaffolds
Grounded in Otherness.
Below seeds, flowers, leaves,
stems, roots ...
Below wet cells embraced,
Below atoms dancing on Energy...
Deeper and deeper below into
What? A Plenitude, a sacredness.
Emptiness in full bloom.
Above seeds, flowers, leaves,
stems, roots, fruits—
Above water, soil, roots, branches,
Above sensing, feeling, working, thinking ...
Higher and higher out towards
What?
"Vast emptiness, nothing holy."
Flowers in the sky.
Leaping from the Ledge of Infinite Regress,
The Unmoved Mover fell into Formlessness:
Pure silence echoed between the galaxies,
Eons of eons vanished in a second,
Withered trees bloomed in fires,
Polar mountains melted, rivers went dry,
Thusness scattered in sixty directions,
Space became Time, time became things.
Black Holes filled with Nirvana,
A billion samadhi mirrors shattered,
Galaxies snuggled within a single skull,
Many became One, One only, only One.
Then,
the Divine Illuminatrix in All Beings
Opened Her clouded Eye, to see:
Flowers in the Sky.
He sat for weeks under the Bodhi Tree
Before the morning sun Opened his Eyes;
Lotus blossoms fell from the sky.
She walked through the Gateless Gate,
Upright, staff in hand;
Plum blossoms opened across the land.
Gnawing on his koan bone,
Suddenly, the taste of insight—
Blue flowers amidst the grave sites.
She sat and sat,
Till yea was nay, and nay was yea;
While roses bloomed on day by day.
Illusions, delusions, foolishness:
Those flowers falling from the sky.
Only the Mind's Eyes
Wishing for otherwise;
As always, embracing fertile lies.
Spinning fictions over facts;
Myth making, playful, eager to act,
Seeing what we want to see,
Seeking, yea saying, seeding, giving it a try.
Having faith in Flowers in the Sky.
These yellow poppies are time,
These green fruits from white flowers are time,
These brown seeds from orange fruits are time,
These gray leafless trees are time.
And the five fingers of one black hand are time,
And the blinking of two blue eyes are time.
The dirty garden hoe and hoses are time,
And greasy tractor gears are time.
The snows on Mt. Shasta melt time,
Moving Mojave sand dunes cover time,
Cold ocean waves at Gold Bluffs cut time,
The onion seedlings in Salinas sweeten time,
The roaring Feather River rapids erode time;
Ventura flower fields color time.
Remembering is time, forgetting is time.
Black lines of scripture are time,
Great and small doubts are time,
Hungry ghosts and naked demons are time,
Newborn Gods are time.
Death is time, and conception is time.
Vulgar time, broken time,
Our time, space-time, in time,
The Right time, before time, Sublime time,
Standard time, beyond time, past time …
Time and time again,
Explaining All and not explaining any-thing.
From Being-Lost, with no abode, selfless, bone dry;
Comes the time-Now for the enlightened cry:
"Flowers in the Sky!"
Imagine what the Will can Do,
Cannot do, will not do.
Imagine more.
Please,
remove the offered flowers
from the great stone Buddha's hands,
before he's blown up at Bamiyan;
and the dust and stones flying high,
Hide the flowers in the sky.
The Buddha raised one flower
Sharing a silent sign;
Maha-Kasyapa smiled,
Keeping an open mind.
Truly eye to eye, free and kind,
Outside any scriptures, beyond the lies;
Fresh flowers in a sunny sky.
Flowers blooming in the sky.
To dance at the still point
of the Time beyond time,
Beyond pasts, within futures,
This Moment
Now and forever, beyond minds.
Not knowing Who or Why,
We stroll in rose gardens, and Love.
Precious flowers in the sky.
Speechless, Dogen stared,
Shivering in a turning white world
Raising cold dawn moons.
Bright white millions on millions
Of drifting flowery flakes
Fell fast from the Echizen sky.
Ice pure, elemental, quintessential
Wet, imperfect, flowing time
Packed by the hour, deeper
Deeper down to Winter's core.
The Temple of Eternal Peace creaked,
Snowflakes gathered on Dogen's robe,
One icy crystal streaked the True Eye
Glimpsing into Itself;
Another transmission:
Lovely flowers in the Sky.
Emptiness in Full Bloom: Flowers in the Sky
At the Edges of the West, Volume 2
25 Steps and Beyond: Collected Works
Mike Garofalo lives in Vancouver, Washington.
He is
80 years of age and retired. He worked
for 50 years in city and county public
libraries,
and in elementary
schools, colleges, and
bookstores. He graduated with
degrees in
philosophy, library science, and education.
February 8, 2025