The Buddha's Stomach Growls

There's his bowl. It must be filled.
The man in saffron smiles and swears
Transcendence is a lasting thing,
But he is not a lasting thing. He's
Not a thing at all. He is a mindless
Process, which goes on so long as
It is able, pulsing reassuring thoughts
Of life, his own, transpiring in bliss,
Devoid of want or need. He's certain
That he's nearly there. Still, he
Must fill his bowl.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 85 times
Written on 2017-07-10 at 15:48

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