Sunday Poem: Buddhist Chronicles 8

In this poem, we stand with Siddhartha at the boundary between the world we know and the one that awaits our unfolding. What threshold invites you to step into your future today? How do you feel about it? Will you say yes to the call of the river? BUDDHIST CHRONICLES...

Sunday Poem: Buddhist Chronicles 7

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES 7 Siddhartha At The Boundary Of The Sakya Kingdom Moonless night; cloud silk across lowering sky. In my father’s palace Yasodhara sleeps, my son’s newborn body curled against her breast: a snail in its shell. I have turned my trembling...

Sunday Poem: Buddhist Chronicles 6

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...

Sunday Poem #15: Buddhist Chronicles 5

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES 5 Yasodhara’s Lament Tides of grief through my veins From this swollen heart into estuaries I mourn the wrack to come I have stored pain like marrow like treasure in the caves of my bones Bloodwaters crash and break on this spiny shore...

Sunday Poem #14: Buddhist Chronicles 4

BUDDHIST CHRONICLES 4 Prajapati I loved Siddhartha as my own my sister’s child, suckled at my breast but I saw him always for what he was a prince shielded by garden walls. He had never known death; even the flowers in his orchards were picked before their...