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A Buddah Is Born In Me

a buddha is born in me

&

every morning
a 'buddha' is born in me

as a clear babbling stream
are all my meditated thoughts-

the roots of worries
like mirror reflections-

the moon-beam of life
at a reachable distance-

i gaze into myself
in perfect perspective -

and visualize myself
as a rootlet in every happening-


the goodness of others blossom
as the bright bars of morning sun -

i destroy my poison
to let in good thoughts-

'bliss hereafter in my life! '
i enjoy in meaningful silence.

&

in the speed of seconds
in the friction of events
in the rashness of conclusions
and in the heat of anger
i expolde offensive words
and burn myself-

why everyone has drawn
daggers at me, all in unison?

i knock my head
in depths of darkness.

where my buddha
had gone dead?
how did so many ghosts
gain entry into me
to crush and drink my blood?

&

' i will turn a good soul tomorrow! '
i tell the night that drags me along;
i could read a soft smile at its lips!

-chandra kalaadhar
S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR

poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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