Posted: Jul 23, 2008, 7:20 PM CST
All things come
To the purple garden
Where Thus-Come-One
The Awakened Man
Holds a sober, paupers court.
He doesn't dissuade
Humanity's parade as
They come, one and more,
To ask, to know, the knowing,
More than some can take.
All day, one day, when
Normally he held discourse
Silent were his lips, and
In the silence, he was hoarse.
A silent disciple looked, and a
Single flower was his answer.
Held aloft, and brandished,
And he arose, and wisdom
Was his prize, for silence
And attention to the profound.
Sometimes wisdom
Doesn't make a sound,
And the question begs
The answer, when the dancer
Dances on, not pausing to
Expostulate, his answer in
The dance itself, as whirling,
Curling around a centerless
Center, he may or may not
Re-enter this theater, once
Curtain call is cast, at last,
And we slink aside, our pride,
Another piece in the Buddha's
Karmic Kollection.