Siddhartha Gautama, the once and future Buddha, <br />and Saint Francis of Assisi were the same, <br />for each man set out from a sheltered room <br />within the walls of opulence in later youth, <br />unwilling to be cut off by wealth from the world. <br />Each cringed, then, at his fate. <br />Each rebelled in a holy rebellion. <br />Each went over the wall <br />in a wide-eyed wonder of love for the world, <br />to take in all that was on the other side, <br />to marvel at all that lived— <br />with tears and cries and hunger, <br />with longing and surprise. <br />Each became a troubadour <br />and roamed the Earth <br />while singing souls awake. <br />And each became at-one with all <br />through holy renunciation, took on <br />voluntary empathic identity <br />with every mortal entity. <br />Each in his raw humanity gave all, <br />unbounded, unfettered, unshackled <br />attention, self-blessed and a blessing. <br /> <br />And later, each sat <br />upon sacred ground, <br />stripped of everything <br />but the one song <br />each creature sings <br />with its living breath. <br />That song is Oneness. <br />That song is Yes. <br />That song None Other. <br />That song is God and not-God. <br />That song is the soul’s outcrying sound. <br />And Saint Francis and Siddhartha <br />sang it with a smile. <br /> <br /> <br />This poem is from the book My Passion for Art by Alla Renée Bozarth, <br />copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br />Alla Renee Bozarth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saint-francis-and-siddartha/
