The ashes are long cold. Smoke no longer lingers in the air. I've poked the butt of my walking staff into the debris and found nothing but black embers.I am the first to heed the Antagonistic Buddha's call. I pray I am not the last. I am not alone, however: a phoenix waits.
Below, I see Spring in full bloom in the valley. It is growing lush and green. Up here, nothing but the rustle of the wind disturbs me.
I brush the coat of ash from a stone bench, sit, and wait. When the Buddha returns... all will be revealed.
No comments:
Post a Comment