JADE FLOWER BUDDHA

In the dynasty of our impoverished love
Like master and servant, I to you
Couldn’t serve, so I depart as a
Luminous white horse, across the fields

In the deep firm breath of
The dreams that I hold dear, you do not
I carry the Eastern skies
In my bosom, galloping with bhaki-trance

Nomadic, not understanding distinctions
Of class, and wealth and human hierarchy
I enter then, the Summer Palace
Of the downtrodden, where peasants

Survive to sleep on staw and spirit
With but one meal a day, and time
To conquer my own vain fears
In the unaccompanied court of my woe

The Jade flowers will not fall
No banner will be attached to my name
No sons or daughters to call me ‘father’
I would hurry to hold a better future

But I cannot, I am sick with summer dread
Till the Queen of the Stars leans down to me
And whispers the next step in my destiny
In spite of great failure, she makes me happy.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/falling-and-over-again-118869527