Lotus
By Isaac Evenson
Ivory crystal yet blankets the ground,
Though the new growth has begun.
In the coal blackened tomb something stirs,
Ripping through chrysalis, yearning for the sun.
Breaking, Cracking, Ripping, Tearing.
The former- Shattered,
The latter- Gathered.
Dripping, Melting, Dropping, Shedding.
Old memories-Fading,
Old Self- Forgetting.
Standing Stoic Strength Surmounting.
Feet Falling-Thunder.
Eyes Burning-Lightning.
Finally Fleeing Fears Forever.
No attachment-Freedom.
No Self-Enlightenment.
From the muddy banks the lotus blooms,
Each petal A Bodhisattva.
From the barren rock the pine now grows,
Mountain wind and rain will never rip it down.
