Monday, May 7, 2012

PANANG



I met Buddha on 82nd street
it was an fortuitous meet.
He looked down at me, with eyes,
whose color I could not see.

A smile, an enigmatic shock:
Am I being mocked?

Whose hands seem as a relaxed joint
where fingers in opposite direction point.

Can I meditate and ask why?
About an Asian love that went awry.
Show me my nature this day
that drove my Asian lover away.

You have been asked a plea:
Do you have something to say to me?
Not about love Universal,
but about love Personal.

Can you only answer this task,
with inscrutable answers, I cannot grasp.

I fear I am not ready or worthy
to decipher your wisdom earthly.

For a love, I will never forget,
and a wound not healed,
with Buddha met.

©TPuma/MMXII


1 comment:

  1. Thomas James harrison IIIMay 17, 2012 at 6:48 PM

    This poem is captivating for me, very personal.
    The Buddha is one of many boyfriends I have that are a "beau ideal." Perhaps not physically at hand but, to me real enough. I am fantasy and relate, as I said, to this poem personally.
    Simply put...I love this poem.
    I would like these words written and framed.

    ReplyDelete