Backyard Buddhas
Bunch of yogis on the floor
chanting chance to evermore
their legs locked in pretzels
ringing singing bowls for symbols
There’s money to be made
in seeking the serene
they’ll sunnify your shade
if you’ve got the green
Poor me I walk alone
try to fill my soul
kindness is the goal
with more goodness grown
But still I snarl and growl
snap and bite and maim
like wild wolf I howl
trying to escape your same
You claim want must be lost
desire quenched with blame
that difference is same
once choice is tossed from cost
So for better me
I must lose myself
let ego end its be
put my id on shelf
Once I lose these edges
I will flow with one
seems giving up my sum
must be my first of pledges
But both my dark and light
creates the spark of might
seasons sense of same
complicating aim
– Smith, 1.7.2017
For a moment there I thought I reached satori but then the coffee kicked in.