No Fish In the Desert
The story goes that the Buddha sat down under a tree
Some say he was idle and simply tired and just fell asleep
Called it meditation and could not decide where to go
The Middle Way
In voluntary composure he grew lean in mind and in body
The trimmings of life left to the way side he changed
Himself and the world and suffered happily ever after at
Cross Roads Without Nails
Had been a Prince and a beggar and fortune seeker for
A very long while as he cast his ragged soul for a few figs
Begging bowl in hand a loin cloth the only material hold
No Snake For Temptation
Suffering and the suffering of nascent Four Noble Truths
Seedlings fell from a canopy of leaves fruit and shelter
Eternity planted a forest of growth one pause at a time
Practice In Woods Of Restraint
Dehydration confused vision with paranoia and hunger set in
Troubling doubts meta-morphed into unwavering certainty
But he never lost faith and never hurt any sentient being
Do Not Do Unto Others
Storms raged and rain licked his lips when thunder and lightning
Humbly collected enlightening energy and modest illumination
A frightening regime but no punishing prophesies bound for hell
Not Even Religion
I own an allotment of plentitude granted by undeserved privilege
Rice on shelves of consumption and fruit from all over the world
A bag full of immodest riches and intricate robes made in the East
Fast Car And Places To Go
And yet I long for simplicity resurrection and the loving embrace
Of wise worms in the garden and a sustainable Past Present Future
As the scorching sun foreshadows a climate of hatred and anger
I Planted A Fig Tree Today
29th December 2019
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