I have sat,
shadowed in words
blinded
blinded
by the brilliant light
of Sister Radio Sujata
in a hellaceous back beat
blown out of the tundra
earth, ice and air
reverberated in thin thunder
of shimmered heat lightning
delta wet
desert smooth
forest sighed
until I found myself
lost in the jet stream
somewhere over Tusita
and become Buddha Maitreya
again
again
listening intently to
the deepening song
of this darkling plain
uttered in burn
of blossomed sigh
accompanied by
golden temple bells
tolling masses to notice
dharma all have forgotten
in a final karma
of eschatology
when all possible worlds collapse
into eight-fold paper crows
falling to earth
beneath the Bo-tree
and I become
Buddha again
The meaning of life.
Great mysteries await there.
Maybe forty two?