Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Fresh Pagodas on the Lawn

The Buddha has two faces:

One smiles, in silence,
               seemingly
               unaware, definitely
unconcerned
     with the platitudes
            and umbrages
     of thought as it
            blows in the wind
               seemingly
               content to let
    the lime unpeel itself.

The other one too, seems to
               merely watch
     though it cares deeply
            about the suffering
               that must be
               hidden in the clay
                                  of faces
     and the silence that becomes,
            when the hysterics
               and sermonettes
               have ended
     inevitable.

There are two boats on the river:

In one the silence is
            the quiet
               that every
   thing is,

In the other the silence is
            pure grief.