BUDDHIST CHRONICLES
6
Suddhodana’s Dilemma
The king sits in council
with his ministers. His heir
has vanished,
choosing the ascetic’s empty bowl
over the imperial crown.
Seven sages had predicted this
the day Siddhartha was born.
His would be a destiny of choice:
Emperor
or Enlightened One.
The king tried
to keep his heir at home. He buried
the writhing of the flesh
under garments of gold.
Ascetics were plentiful as leaves.
He had only one first-born son.
Now he wrinkles the imperial forehead.
Turns brusquely to his chief minister,
orders Prince Nanda to be brought
to the council chamber.
……………………………………………………….
As always, I’d love to hear your poems, as well as your thoughts, feelings and insights on Poetry Sunday.
The rhythm of poetry is the rhythm of breath and heartbeat. Poems connect us across the chasms of history, geography, language and culture to the essence of what’s in our hearts.
Siddhartha’s story, and that of the people and places that he loved, unfolded centuries ago. Yet the essential truth of his experience is also our own…
Let’s raise our voices in this communion of poetry together.
