A True Child Of The Buddha In Brooklyn Poem by Charles Chaim Wax
A True Child Of The Buddha In Brooklyn
Mary McCall
one of my students
raped
in an abandoned building
her face
then set aflame
alive
but forever disfigured
no rest
from the nightmare
and when I lay down
couldn’t catch my breath
a fierce rumble of
torment—
Oh, the dear girl
pain
I couldn’t imagine.
“I wish I never knew.”
Then whimpered for a moment
but didn’t cry
mumbling, “I ought to cry.”
Then I tried to cry,
but could not.
“No soul left
in this tattered body, ” I moaned
and left the bed,
turned on the light
sat in the green chair
slowly following my breath
gradually rhythm soothed me
and soon began to muse
on the great matters
this entire experiment
of humanity
wouldn’t last more than a million years
if that long
a blip in the grand sweep
of time
measured in billions
and billions of years.
I inhaled deeply
and felt tingling in my arms and legs
beginning to taste Buddha’s great truth—
Not a thing exists
just the endless transformation of atoms
and a bit of joy entered me.
“No matter what happens
I’m lucky to have come across
his wisdom.”
Without warning
tears
Mary’s suffering
finally
real.
Charles, Wow, this was gripping, I felt such strong sad emotions in this piece...thanks for sharing. The imagery sizzled my mind and your details were awe inspiring.
This is a great poem that touched me, both the humanity and spiritual wisdom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 5:46:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Charles: I loved this story (however painful) . thought you might enjoy these poems. Sandra The Unsearchable It is not this: not sky, or reflections of sky, or thoughts, or dreams, or intentions of sky; Wild swans borrow the wind, but the sun only moves within white feathered wings over water, divined transcendence; It is not beauty, it is not warmth, it is not light; It is: not this. 2/7/06 Mercy She never smiles, this Virgin with Child sees too far beyond her youth; Sanctified and blessed among woman, heaven blessed and full of grace, heaven blessed (have mercy on us): The Trinity rings hollow promises of a sacred heartache love leaves little choice but to endure; No, the Mother of God does not smile as she holds her first born son, and her eyes are old long before their time. 9/29/04