Beneath the Bodhi Tree

Beneath the Bodhi tree
a beginning between beginnings
where history meets mystery.

Leaves, branches extend
chanting, blessing words unknown.
Echoes circle the trunk,
keeping the past alive.
Cycles of remembrance
spinning on life itself.

A light offering floats on a source that’s suffering.
Can the rivers drown out their screeches?
Flow to where they can lay, luxuriate by our beaches.
Imagining that time before the algae bloomed.
Stories of that line above the sea that loomed.

For their sun will plummet to a horizon,
fade into that grey haze that’s rising.
What will come of the now?
The liberties of being close to nothing.

Presence walks a line of consequence.
Our greatest offence.
Our last defence.

/

Notes watching the sun dissolve into the grey after being beneath the Bodhi tree in the day.