The white elephant
After the lotus blossom flowered |
The white elephant floats out of her sepals
Seven days later, Queen Maya died.
The white elephant he doesn’t mix well jackals
He doesn’t witness death, hunger or sickness
Not until he was in his mid to late twenties
Not until he wanders outside the palace walls
Witnesses’ person suffering in their dying eddies.
Does he question his own, mortality?
Now faced with a man’s dead severed skull
The white elephant contemplates his own, death?
How can an emancipated body like a lotus unfurl?
Find spiritual harmony, enlightenment
How can one reach a state of true Nevada?
After some six years of profound hardship
He was no closer to understanding finding karma.
Not until he sat meditating under the Bodhi Tree
Many days, not until he was shown a middle way
Did he find what he was searching for?
Never would he be born again, be anyone’s protégé.
He found a peace in the blossoms of his own, serenity
Where the petals of the Bodhi tree rained on his brow
He found an explanation that explained everything
The dream his mother had was after all like the Tao.
A Bird's Eye View challenge
By Mark Heathcote
© 2018 Mark Heathcote
(All rights reserved)