Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The Garden Buddha sits between the Rosemary, Dahlia and Boronia fragrances in the breeze Welcoming Accepting the sun, the rain, the star lite night sky fierce frozen mornings the snow when it comes, the spiders, the slugs, the mosquitoes, the flies Garden Buddha quarter smile whether or not I sit beside him, Unattached to all he sees a study in the 7 Dharmas. The Garden Buddha being is all he knows. While I worry about this and that fearful thoughts in the days and nights all attached to love and loss, fears and triumphs births and debts, what people think will poems trend whether there is food on the table whether work will extend whether or not I am part of the latest fashion trend. The Garden Buddha doesn't care or not care about any of those things his eyes never waver they always look inside out outside in. The Garden Buddha stone of course his smile never goes away. In the end, though, nature will always have the last say I can accept it or not Be filled with longing suffering or accepting life on life's terms The Garden Buddha will be here long after my last dying day.
0
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:24 PM UTC
The Garden Buddha
The Garden Buddha sits between the Rosemary, Dahlia and Boronia fragrances in the breeze Welcoming Accepting the sun, the rain, the star lite night sky fierce frozen mornings the snow when it comes, the spiders, the slugs, the mosquitoes, the flies Garden Buddha quarter smile whether or not I sit beside him, Unattached to all he sees a study in the 7 Dharmas. The Garden Buddha being is all he knows. While I worry about this and that fearful thoughts in the days and nights all attached to love and loss, fears and triumphs births and debts, what people think will poems trend whether there is food on the table whether work will extend whether or not I am part of the latest fashion trend. The Garden Buddha doesn't care or not care about any of those things his eyes never waver they always look inside out outside in. The Garden Buddha stone of course his smile never goes away. In the end, though, nature will always have the last say I can accept it or not Be filled with longing suffering or accepting life on life's terms The Garden Buddha will be here long after my last dying day.
Not a practicing Buddhist, but have always had a fascination with attachment, longing and acceptance.
sjr1000
Written by
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:24 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem