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BUDDHA BELLY

As I bathed
in the belly of the Buddha,
I could feel
the golden bowl

ting-ngggggggggggggggggggggggggg--

I could feel
the hills
outside the temple
ringing,
hear the goats
                     jump-step
from stone
            to stone--
their hooves percussing.

I could feel the prayer wheel
was a turning
in my heart,
and the prayer flags
on the line
are the way I often am
after Iíve been washed:
      wrung out but free,
      yet securely fastened

while buffeted by a wind
beyond my control--
           dashed,
           stretched,
           lashed--

I trust--I have to trust--
that the flagpole
is indomitable.

© 2008 Michael R. Patton      go back

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