a buddha... <br />or just another homeless man, <br />standing on the corner <br />of the street going nowhere. <br />what do we hold in our hands <br />that will remain? <br />even daylight is swallowed by night, <br />and night disappears into the dawn. <br />and love in the end <br />is merely a moment given, <br />a grain of sand <br />on a deserted beach. <br />the trees shed their leaves <br />for the winter cleansing, <br />and so we lay our bodies <br />down into the earth's embrace! <br />o to be ocean, <br />filling the great chasms of history. <br />o to be mountain, <br />and bridge the earth to the sky. <br />o to be wind, <br />to come and go without restraint. <br />o to be fire, <br />to consume, and yet to give warmth! <br /> <br />and o to know, <br />that we are each and all, <br />that we are none and nothing. <br />both the falling star, <br />and the blackened sky... <br />and yes a grain of sand <br />beneath the traveller's feet, <br />the home that cannot be taken, <br />but is freely given! <br />and hands that have no need to hold!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-buddha-or/
