Philip Glenn Whalen

20 October 1923 – 26 June 2002 / Portland, Oregon

A Vision of the Bodhisattvas

They pass before me one by one riding on animals
'What are you waiting for,' they want to know

Z—, young as he is (& mad into the bargain) tells me
'Some day you'll drop everything & become a rishi, you know.'

I know
The forest is there, I've lived in it
More certainly than this town? Irrelevant—

What am I waiting for?
A change in customs that will take 1000 years to come about?
Who's to make the change but me?

'Returning again and again,' Amida says

Why's that dream so necessary? walking out of whatever house alone
Nothing but the clothes on my back, money or no
Down the road to the next place the highway leading to the
mountains
From which I absolutely must come back

What business have I to do that?
I know the world and I love it too much and it
Is not the one I'd find outside this door.
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