Mystic Under the Bodhi Tree
A most beautiful day
The Son of Suns, shining brightly on us all
Not hot yet, but bright.
A million butterfly’s swarm
Lighting on and around
Myriads of flowers surrounding.
See them in such moving colors
Each on their own chosen way, their way
Together a measure of personality, entrancement, and beauty.
Colorful, fluttering profusion, vibrating around
Taking in Time’s special allowance, with me, in Nature
Bringing universal moments together, in such pure peace
Blessed am I, are we
To see the effect come ‘round.
In utter wonder, I clap one hand in boyish joy
And then race singing to the opposite side of the world
Arriving, so long ago.
___*___
Questioning here for an age
How long do I have to wait?
It did seem I clapped eons ago.
Wondering wanders in wonders
If my number eight, times zero equals zero
Where does eight go?
Does it fade into nothingness
Or does eight's worth, travel to a place I can’t run to
Clever that… eight… knowing where to go.
Or was it ever there?
Was my hand even clapping
Caught up so in the Space of Air?
___*___
Indeed, was 'I' ever there, meaning…
Am 'I' truly here?
What math are we living?
Is it worth a try, clap again!
Would this Time… there, be different?
Or should I just sit still in this shaded doorway.
A friend found
An old ancient Oak, there
Resting under this peaceful Bodhi Tree, here
Conspirators only, or keys to a hidden gate?
Brothers in intent…
Time merchants on duty
Opening just for pondering clapping questions.
Hmm.
Was the run around this World
The most important thing learned?
Perhaps, just to comprehend the beginning-to-end
Of nothing?
Fancy that.
Laughing gaily under realization’s umbrella
All for nothing eh?
No, not quite…
I still sing, and dance.
Even if…
All for nothing… into foreverness.
Ah, so go I
So, go we all?
For the butterflies too, are somewhere.
I believe the Bodhi Tree knows…
As does the elder Oak
Why else invite sitting?
Copyright ©
Brian Rusch
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