Jan/Feb 2006 Poetry |
My Buddhist Beginning
little blue marble,
locked in great grandmother's
fragrant tin-
i found you
poured out in apples.
you there at my Buddha's feet.how funny
that i found you
in that
old bronze box,
you looking
so young and rescued.i'll discuss
your finer points
often on my journey.
keeping you
in my top desk drawer,
i'll discover you
tomorrow
and we'll
read this poem together.