Puja to Amoghasiddhi

 

Worship

I offer light to you who are light

in the darkest places,

the deepest forests.

I offer candles

to you who are moon and stars

and the sun at midnight.

 

I offer water

to you who draw water

as the great trees do,

from the deepest places.

Deeper than death,

deeper than despair,

deeper than roots of fear and envy.

 

I offer incense and every drifting fragrance

of flower and leaf

to you whose actions

perfume the world

as scent from an unseen tree,

subtle, untraceable,

flowering in heart of winter.

 

 

Salutation

Amoghasiddhi,

fearless Buddha,

I bow down before you.

I lay my heart,

my life

before you,

fearless Buddha,

I lay my armour down.

 

I bow down before you,

green Buddha of perfect action,

Amoghasiddhi,

unstoppable, unfailing.

With the jealous gods, the titans,

I lay my weapons down.

 

 

Going for Refuge

Where is the refuge from fear?

Wherever I run,

I can’t find it.

Wherever I hide,

fear finds me out.

If I lie as silent as a seed of stone

in the heart of my life,

fear will find me.

 

Where is the refuge from bitter envy?

I can’t buy it or steal it

or win it or grab it.

Tears won’t fight it,

or smiling deny it.

No force of will

can pull the sword

of jealous hatred from my heart.

 

Your green castle

in the heart of the forest

is the refuge from fear,

the refuge from envy.

 

You, the green light that says go,

move, unfreeze,

cross the road,

the river of sorrow.

You, the green man

whose raised hand says, stop,

in the heart of the forest,

stop running.

 

 

Confession of Faults

Fearless Buddha,

I am afraid to look

at the depth of my fear,

the depth of my envy.

 

I close my eyes,

I close my heart and mind

to the plain facts of suffering,

grown thick as a forest around me.

 

I fear to feel,

I fear to act.

Buddha of action,

if I could sleep

my life out in safety,

I surely would.

 

Fearless Buddha,

help me to see through fear.

Buddha of action,

help me to move through fear.

 

Amoghasiddhi, whose green strength rises

as sap drawn by sunlight,

from the deep places:

help me to feel,

help me to act.

 

Rejoicing in Merits

I rejoice in those who dare to grow.

I rejoice in the snowdrops,

pushing through cold soil.

 

I rejoice in those who dare to forgive

tiny bitternesses,

and hurts as high as mountains.

 

I rejoice in those who dare to love,

in the beaten puppy

who walks the long road back

from hatred,

in tired parents

making food and shelter,

hope and warmth,

over and over.

 

I rejoice in those

who dare to see

need, injustice,

pain, starvation.

 

I rejoice in those

who dare to listen.

I rejoice in those

who dare to give,

who dare to speak,

who dare to act.

 

I rejoice in those

who lay down their armour.

I rejoice in those

who dare to see danger.

 

I rejoice in the wolf’s keen nose,

the light of the cat’s green eyes.

 

I rejoice in the wisdom

of bird and insect and snake.

 

I rejoice in humans

who dare to dream,

who dare to fly,

or walk through walls of stone.

 

I rejoice in those

who feel their way in darkness.

 

I rejoice in the snowdrops,

pushing through cold soil.

I rejoice in the snowdrops,

Opening their white bells,

their green hearts

in February sunlight,

making food for early bees.

 

Entreaty and Supplication

Midnight Buddha,

don’t leave us

in a dark place,

in a dark time.

Be for us

the sun at midnight.

 

Midwinter Buddha,

don’t leave us

frozen in fear,

frozen in hatred.

Green magician,

unfold our hearts.

 

Midnight Buddha,

don’t leave us

trapped in dark places,

lost in dark forests.

Open our eyes

to see in darkness.

 

 

Transference of Merit and Self-Surrender

If I act in this world,

may it be as trees draw water

from earth to trunk to leaf,

to the benefit of many.

 

Or may I act

as earthworms work the soil,

as beetles and microbes

break down dead leaves for leaf-mould.

May I be leaf-mould,

sustaining many creatures.

 

If I walk on this earth,

may it be lightly, lightly

as the first haze of green

spreads along hawthorn hedges

or the wren on her thin feet

hops through the underbrush

then belts out her aria,

bringing hope

to all who hear her.

 

Clair Mullineaux