Peace / A Buddha of Our Times

Peace / A Buddha of Our Times

I say, “the soul” but mean “the mind”.
Perhaps I am confused.
My soul (or mind) had lost its peace
From being much abused.

And who abused it? Could it be
Itself that should be blamed—
Or circumstance—or others, who
Had better stay unnamed?

If I had found the answer,
It could well have been a lie.
The scab was made for healing, not
For picking for the “why?”

I cannot claim I healed myself
Or found the peace within.
And yet I did find solace, though
This world is steeped in sin.

And what I found, I’ll summarize
By saying only this:
By stepping out of madness, one
May find a bit of bliss.

There’s body-mind and then perhaps
The soul—or is this mind?
I do not know. In everything,
I know we should be kind.

But life may often be unkind.
It’s rarely only fun.
We get our depth from suffering—
Unless it’s overdone.

Too often, we encounter pain
And grief we can’t endure.
And then we seek and hope for that
Which might enact a cure.

And if this comes, we then are blessed.
But though we hope and pray,
There may be times when night prevails,
Without the hope of day.

Amidst the pain and misery,
When hope itself is gone,
We ask ourselves what lies ahead
And why we’re going on.

What answer can we give ourselves
Or those who are in need,
Except that life is precious, so
We walk where it may lead.

We live and so we taste of joy
And equally of grief.
So pain and pleasure come and go,
And worry and relief.

And when it’s time to leave behind
This life and those we love,
We cast our eyes towards the earth
Or the sky that waits above.

From earth and air and water, we
Were born—and when we leave,
To these again we all return,
Whatever we believe.

But that’s the body. Does the soul
Endure—or does it die?
I do not know, and those who say
They do—perhaps they lie.

We came with nothing, never knowing
The reason why we came.
We go with nothing, still not knowing
The reason for this game.

So each of us is humbled, in
That death as in this life.
And all that each can hope for is
The peace that ends the strife—

For conflict, in the world we see
And in the world within,
Is at the root of misery
And much of human sin.

And when that conflict ceases (if
At least within the soul),
We savor then that peace that heals
And makes our beings whole.

The Buddhas say, “Let go, let go—
Of fear and of desire.
Then see their waves—that rise, subside…
Be freed, by this, from fire.”

We cling and so we suffer. Yet
We cannot cling to that
Which is by nature passing. Do
We see that that is that?

I wish upon you happiness—
A long and happy life.
But more than that, I wish that peace.
May free your soul from strife.

There’s body-mind and then perhaps—
That soul. I do not know.
Be kind to others. Be at peace
Within—by letting go.

And who am I to give advice?
A Buddha of our times?
If only it were so. Alas!
I’m only good at rhymes.

2018 November 25th, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York