Stolen Dreams

‘Darkness Reborn’ – yamabuki
“I once saw with my own eyes
The Buddha sitting in a cage,
His begging bowl beside him
‘I have nothing to give you
But this cell phone’ said I
‘I’ve seen many of your monks
Using them these days.
I’m sure they would come to help
If you were but to call them’
First the Buddha, and then the cage
Faded from my sight
Leaving only a lonely cell phone
And a ragged begging bowl
I left the phone in the dust
And left with the bowl
No wiser than before
But richer by far.”
— Maitreya Bodhisattva
May is the month of longing
Facing the dead lands
Aches and pains stirring
Drenching spring rains arriving
Snow turning to warm lakes
Covering our troubled lives
With its drenching sweetness
You gave me heartache first
That silvery time in the woods
Yet when we came back
Late from the broken glade
Your arms full of longing
And your dark eyes wet
I could not understand the shadows
The falling trees that haunted us
The broken leaves flying
Blinded eyes crying
For I ached in madness
And knew your heart
Was lost to mine
Earth remains forgetful
Feeding us with sighs and whispers
Returning to us with radiant life
And the rains surprise us
Coming over the seas
With showers of warmth
To begin anew the wonder of time
We sheltered in the shadows of stone,
And then escaped to sunlight
On that street in Prague
Drinking coffee laced with herbs
We spoke in Russian
And dreamed of Vodka
When we were children
Freshly awakened into life
We thought we knew who we were
But when the darkness took hold
Then down we went
Bleeding innocence
Beneath the mountains
Weighted down in faded thoughts
That only brought us sorrow
Now I tremble much of the night
And go darkly cold in winter
Eating the roots that remain
While taller branches beat at us
In the shivering winds
We told such stories then
Unremembered until now
In these hours of sorrow
In this wintery haze of drink
You cannot say what troubles you
Though you know better than to try
You and I have seen them struggling
Those broken images where the sun whispers
And the dead trees long for warmth
But provides us no rest or relief 
And the dry stone dreams of water
Yes we know their longing
But they give us no respite
There is no water here
No yellow fogs
Or shadows of uncertainty
And I can show you 
Nothing different from before
No Maitreya coming to save us
No years of moonlit shadows
Nor memories of passing shades
We can only continue onward
In this lonely sad eyed dream
I will show you my fears
Wrapped in a handful of dust
In singsong fashion calling
Chasing the summer winds
Among the leaves of children
Taking what happiness we many find
As we walk ever closer to the waters
The Ocean shore that awaits us is patient
And we are almost out of time
April 2011

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