Poem By john tiong chunghoo
Buddha's thoughts found its roots at the
Bodhi tree, budded and bloomed into
A thousand flowers blown to all corners
Of the world converting myriad thoughts of
The fabric of religions analoguous
To artists who style the world
In shades of Impressionism, Cubism,
Surrealism and Realism.
Through Zen, a meditation discipline
Where masters could even tell through his ears
Which hand a disciple uses in knocking a door,
Ramayana where spirits of the heavens crowd
The world to help sin-ladened souls escape
The grim cycles of reincarnations;
Fate of souls also fooled by the movement
Of the universe spawning superstitions.
And Theravada where each being sanctions
His own hell or heaven through deeds.
The Buddha sees and listens to all in quiet repose