จากหนังสือ กระโถน กระถาง ที่ ชยสาโรภิกขุ เขียนเกี่ยวกับ หลวงพ่อชา
You were a fountain
of cool stream water
in the square of a dusty town,
and you were the source of that stream
on a high unseen peak.
You were, Luang Por, that mountain itself,
but various seen.
Luang Por, you were never one person,
you were never a person,
you were always the same.
You were the child laughing
at the Emperor’s new clothes, and ours.
You were a demand to be awake,
The mirror of our faults, ruthless kind.
Luang Por, you were the essence of our texts,
the leader of our practice,
the proof of its results.
You were a blazing bonfire,
on a windy bone-chilled night,
how we miss you!
Luang Por, you were the sturdy stone bridge
we had dreamed of.
as at ease
in the present
as if it were your own ancestral land.
Luang Por, you were
the bright full moon
that we sometimes obscured with clouds.
You were as kind as only you could be
You were as hard as granite,
as tough as nails,
as soft as butter
as and sharp as a razor.
Luang Por, you were a freshly dripping lotus
in a world of plastic flowers.
not once did you lead us astray
you were a lighthouse for our flimsy rafts
on the heaving sea.
You are beyond my words of praise and all description.
humbly, I place my head
beneath your feet.