The Buddha's Last Instruction

A year-long contemplative journey with Mary Oliver.

Photo by Nacho Rochon on Unsplash

Introducing Dream Work: A Year-Long Journey with Mary Oliver.

Hello Dear Friends,

In the spirit of immersing myself deeper in the practice and studying of nature poetry, I am embarking on a year-long contemplative writing journey with Mary Oliver. Each day, I will read a single Mary Oliver poem and then write a poem in response to it.

I am feeling called to share this practice with the Poetry Outdoors community, as a weekly poem and prompt offering. Every Sunday, I will share a Mary Oliver poem, one of mine I have written in response, along with a poetry prompt for you to write your own version in conversation with Mary.

Each week, we will gather in the comments section and share our Mary Oliver inspired poetry with each other.

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Photo by József Szabó on Unsplash

This Week’s Poem: The Buddha’s Last Instruction

“Make of yourself a light,”
said the Buddha,
before he died.
I think of this every morning
as the east begins
to tear off its many clouds
of darkness, to send up the first
signal -- a white fan
streaked with pink and violet,
even green.
An old man, he lay down
between two sala trees,
and he might have said anything,
knowing it was his final hour.
The light burns upward,
it thickens and settles over the fields.
Around him, the villagers gathered
and stretched forward to listen.
Even before the sun itself
hangs, disattached, in the blue air,
I am touched everywhere
by its ocean of yellow waves.
No doubt he thought of everything
that had happened in his difficult life.
And then I feel the sun itself
as it blazes over the hills,
like a million flowers on fire --
clearly I'm not needed,
yet I feel myself turning
into something of inexplicable value.
Slowly, beneath the branches,
he raised his head.
He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd.

From House of Light by Maria Oliver

Response Poem

"Make of yourself a light,"
said the Buddha before he died
and I imagine every person who
bear witness to those words as they 
were spoken, tilting their heads toward
the sun like flowers waking up for the first time. 
Their bodies flooded with bright sensation, 
an inexplicable delight, as a newfound awareness
touched them, a soft petal against the cheek. 
They understood the instruction, a miraculous 
gift to be given to others and to the world. How 
a being, awake to itself, can gaze lovingly upon
another and wait for the light to bloom out of darkness. 

Ash Kilback, after Mary Oliver

This Week’s Prompt: Make of Yourself a Light

Write a response poem inspired by the first line of Mary’s poem, “Make of yourself a light,” said the Buddha before he died. — imagine who or what bear witness to these words and what became known as the wisdom of Buddha’s last words were spoken. Consider writing about what it means, or feels like, to make of yourself a light.

Come back to the comments on this post next Sunday, January 11th and share your poem.

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Photo by REGINE THOLEN on Unsplash

A Final Invitation & Special Offering

Our first Meadow, a monthly Zen poetry circle that weaves together seasonal wisdom, zen teachings, and nature poetry is coming up next Sunday, Jan 11 from 10AM - 11:30AM PST. It’s free for paid subscribers or tickets can be purchased for via Eventbrite for $25CAD.

I am sharing a special offering for paid subscribers for the next week, you can purchase a monthly or yearly subscription for 25% off. As a paid subscriber, you’ll have access to:

• (12) Meadow poetry circles each month with access to recordings

• Opportunities for publishing your work on Poetry Outdoors

• Member-only conversation threads

• And more as Poetry Outdoors evolves