Friday, September 25, 2009

White Lotus

DW Bender, 2008

At dawn I asked the lotus,
"What is the meaning of life?"
Slowly, she opened her hand
with nothing in it.

Receiving what is given,
She does not grasp to retain;
In the heart of the lotus,
what is ever lost?

Her cup overflows with light:
The cosmos rests in her palm.
When darkness settles on her,
she enfolds the sun.

At dusk, as her petals closed,
I whispered, "Why must we die?"
The lotus vanished, and all
turned into her dream.