Praise to Trungpa Rinpoche Praise to Rinpoche in Surmang, Monastic student and prolific, young, vajra master. Praise to you who escaped to India and leapt to the British Isles. Praise to you who went to Tak Seng, giving us all the Sadhanna of Mahamudra. Praise to you leaping to North America, Magnetizing students to Tail of the Tiger. Praise to you in blue jeans and suspenders under the Rocky Mountain so blue sky, Teaching the four "savage truths" with a big smile. Praise to you in gray suit, sipping sake while giving no ground to the shaggy hippy Naropa audience. Praise to you in tuxedo in Denver, watching the Regent dance with Lady Diana. Praise to you in yellow robesâ‚¬"radiation without radiator. Praise to you in khaki and praise to you in pristine Great Ocean uniform with black riding boots astride Drala, galloping down from the higher realms. Praise to you in your office so available, Looking over spectacles at us as if to ask, "Really?" Praise to Rinpoche in Cape Breton, PEI, and in the Apple Blossom Festival Of the Annapolis Valley, surrounded by your retinue of youthful dakinis. Praise to you who could tickle and awe. Praise to you, Druk Sakyong, for creating this Kingdom of Shambhala. Praise to you and your chubby right hand, wielding the big brush, And praise to you and your left hand of prajna, so often cupped in your lap As if holding a skull cup or standing vajra. Praise to you and your sadhanas, guru yogas, poems both traditional and Ginsberg-esque And for your dharma books that continue to pour down from the dharmakaya. Praise to you in the pine needles and summer grasses, In the raindrops racing down the window and in the gathering clouds. Praise to you in the rainbows, single or double, In the storms and high winds, In the fire of fire pujas and in the sand of sand mandalas. Praise to you Rinpoche! Honk a horn, blow gyalings, Beat a drum, or sky-write "Praise!" Raise a toast in Bobby Burns fashion: "Praise to you now who are everywhere!"