Sitting with the Buddha

I sit with the Buddha in
The milky swathe of my
Celestial home

His lap — a bowl
Ground out of mountains
Filled with now

My mind — a pocket
Full of jelly beans
And marbles

They swirl while I try to
Make myself a rock
Flickering in the flame

But a rock’s wisdom
Has been carved by
Three hundred million years

So I apply myself to
Becoming a tree
Waving its branches compliantly

I snag on the compliance
This is not my nature
Or is it? I don’t know

I catch myself and turn to
Visualizing me as
A fox suckling her young

A jellybean sticks to
How she can avoid planning
For her next rooster

I look at the Buddha sitting
His hands — a ribbon
Around my breath

The marbles quiet their clanging
And turn into sensation
Green, timid, new

He winks at me
And, if only for a moment,
I am submerged in



  1. It’s incredible. I feel like you described how I feel when I sit with the Buddha statue on my altar. In his lap is a “bowl” where I place a candle. He helps me meditate and feel peace. I love this poem! Rock on!

  2. good writing, marya. mad monkey mind and the awareness that you are meditating creeping at the edge of mindful clarity, versions of your self looking into the pool of clear water and seeing their reflections.

      1. Your poem came first and inspired mine 🙂
        When my book is available in a few weeks, I will promote it here for sure.
        Namaste, Marya

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