To be a Buddha is to be the memory of a mountain
the silence of a ghost between two breaths.
a flame in the lantern knowing the light is living

a river that can sleep with hush of a thousand years
with the pearl of and oyster's universe
and the lotus in a pond of mahogany

the wind is a brush painting a portrait of a ghost
the moon a shadow of Michelangelo
the stars a million diamonds in the dark

and the eyes of a mirror reflecting Plato
a world of a million colors in a single drop of dew
with the heartbeat of a thorn clinging to the rose

to be a Buddha the door remains open
the geometry still counting beads on the abacus
climbing the ladder of the rosary

the beauty of being the shadow in the mist
with a philosophical weight
and echo's of a thousand bells

the egg called Adam crossing river of time
in the flicker of a candle in an open dream
the space between notes

to be a Buddha,
"Mairzy doats and dozy doats
and liddle lamzy divey"