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THE BUDDHA

The truth he transcended,
And with it worldliness he ended,
The garden of virtue he well tended,
And became so alive that we seemed dead.

He saw of what he was made,
Or rather in truth “unmade”;
He saw our existence as ephemeral as a dew on a grass blade,
And thus sank in us all never to fade.

A wonder he became beyond wonderful,
The very essence of beautiful,
And while he sat smiling we built sand castles, us fools,
A teacher he is, yet not of this or that school.

He passed onto a state of beginning with no ending,
While we remain endless and without beginning,
With a smile he defined us all,
It is not to late to heed his call.

He awoke under the Bodhi-tree,
And then he started to really see,
Everything he said is meant to be,
And the cause is “I” which needs to be realized rather then magnified on bended knees.

So many years have passed since thus he spoke,
So many years have passed since thus he awoke,
So many years have passed, but still it’s meaning our souls haven’t soaked,
So many years have passed since he smiled, us being the joke.

Statue of the Buddha, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam. Photo by Andrys Stienstra

 

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