Feb 21
Sam was known as the Buddha-cat,
Mainly because of the way that he sat.
His feline posture was fascinating:
He always appeared to be meditating.
Quiet and still, he'd sit there for hours
As though he possessed remarkable powers.
People would say that he gave the impression
Of being in the midst of a calm zazen session.
Never upset or angry or frightened,
He made all who knew him think he was enlightened.
"But tell us: why 'Sam'?" people would query
So often that both of Sam's owners grew weary.
"It's short for Samantabhadra," they'd say,
"Who's just like a Buddhist saint in a way."
"Yes," Sam would think, "That's who I am.
But, everyone, PLEASE, just call me 'Sam.'"
Then Sam would continue his deep meditation,
Sometimes counting each long exhalation.
And when he was finished, he'd patiently wait
To see if a treat might appear on his plate.
He'd stare through the window pane when it was raining.
To him it was one type of mindfulness training.
He never would chase after insects or mice,
And if one ran by, he wouldn't look twice.
He was content just to take life with ease.
One thing that he couldn't stand, though, was fleas!
But he wouldn't **** them, for his point of view
Was clearly: that's what his owners should do.
He knew that life had both good times and bad,
And since life was so, he didn't get mad.
Sam was not a strict vegetarian.
His rules for dining were more nonsectarian.
He'd chant when you gently would stroke his soft fur,
Though folks said it sounded more like a purr.
He was a true inspiration to many.
Did he have enemies? No, not any.
When visitors came, Sam wouldn't hide.
Of all cats, he was the most dignified.
Sam felt that egos were dangerous, so
Everyone has to learn how to let go.
As Sam grew older, he slept day and night,
And fur on his face began to turn white.
He ate much less food--not a whole plateful,
But he continued to always be grateful.
He still meditated, although bit by bit,
He felt it was better to lie than to sit.
One sad morning Sam's owners awoke
To find that old Sam had died of a stroke.
For Sam there would be no more mañana,
For he had entered parinirvana.
-by Bob B (2-21-24)
Mainly because of the way that he sat.
His feline posture was fascinating:
He always appeared to be meditating.
Quiet and still, he'd sit there for hours
As though he possessed remarkable powers.
People would say that he gave the impression
Of being in the midst of a calm zazen session.
Never upset or angry or frightened,
He made all who knew him think he was enlightened.
"But tell us: why 'Sam'?" people would query
So often that both of Sam's owners grew weary.
"It's short for Samantabhadra," they'd say,
"Who's just like a Buddhist saint in a way."
"Yes," Sam would think, "That's who I am.
But, everyone, PLEASE, just call me 'Sam.'"
Then Sam would continue his deep meditation,
Sometimes counting each long exhalation.
And when he was finished, he'd patiently wait
To see if a treat might appear on his plate.
He'd stare through the window pane when it was raining.
To him it was one type of mindfulness training.
He never would chase after insects or mice,
And if one ran by, he wouldn't look twice.
He was content just to take life with ease.
One thing that he couldn't stand, though, was fleas!
But he wouldn't **** them, for his point of view
Was clearly: that's what his owners should do.
He knew that life had both good times and bad,
And since life was so, he didn't get mad.
Sam was not a strict vegetarian.
His rules for dining were more nonsectarian.
He'd chant when you gently would stroke his soft fur,
Though folks said it sounded more like a purr.
He was a true inspiration to many.
Did he have enemies? No, not any.
When visitors came, Sam wouldn't hide.
Of all cats, he was the most dignified.
Sam felt that egos were dangerous, so
Everyone has to learn how to let go.
As Sam grew older, he slept day and night,
And fur on his face began to turn white.
He ate much less food--not a whole plateful,
But he continued to always be grateful.
He still meditated, although bit by bit,
He felt it was better to lie than to sit.
One sad morning Sam's owners awoke
To find that old Sam had died of a stroke.
For Sam there would be no more mañana,
For he had entered parinirvana.
-by Bob B (2-21-24)
