The Buddha spoke to me in my dream,
He advised of stony patience,
Kin to a stream that runs for millennia
Through monolithic mountains.
He spoke of personal fury,
Rage to destroy one’s enemy
How deserving they may be,
Forgiveness the eternal remedy,
As virtue it may be
To vindicate an enemy.
He told me of a kinder soul,
The divine spark in all of men,
A heart of good will for all of men;
A goal holy, a road thorny,
A path fraud with sacrifices many.
I asked him, when shall I
Dream of you again?
A golden smile upon his lips replied,
It is I who dream of you,
Among the clouds, under the sun,
Above the earth, under the moon.