One More Day, Learning Without End

By Phan Tan Hai

One more day—hair and beard turning silver,
murmuring each word of the wind of impermanence;
the old book strains my weary joints,
hearing ancient ages chill my bones.

Learning without end—the mind like sunlight,
shining across all realms, the afternoon deeply gold;
the night of Nirvana joyful and silent,
the day of Bodhisattvas filled with compassion.

One more day—walking in great fatigue,
each step of mind, each step of meditation;
sitting by the river, watching clouds rise,
seeing no self, seeing no boat.

Learning without end—the practice like stone,
without craving, without anger;
building countless bridges of illusion
to carry all beings across the river.

One more day—ears and eyes growing weak,
yet the undying mind bright as a mirror;
understanding at last the Teacher’s old words:
no single dharma—just the ordinary mind.

Learning without end—the practice like a mountain,
the mind unmoving through storms of the sea;
from the highest peak springs a stream
carrying compassion to bathe all beings.

One more day—this body nearing death,
ten thousand lives wandering through ten thousand homes;
yet in this very mind, the wordless Sutra—
Nirvana never far away.

Learning without end—the practice like the wind,
coming from nowhere, going nowhere;
hearing birth and death in every breath,
without delight, without sorrow.

One more day—watching the winds of karma,
patient, patient, patient—bathing in impermanence;
a friend stops by asking of countless lives,
I offer only a smile, and fall into silence.

Learning without end—the mind of all Buddhas,
moon rising over the mountain, the practice of letting go;
realizing no-self, the Dharma as it is—
no single mind, and that is the wonder.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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