a meditation
on one who meditates
© Steven E. Cutts, 2017
a Studio C recording, summer 2017
The Buddha in my garden sits wholly unperturbed unruffled by whatever whirls his way.
His fingers never fidget; his breath is not disturbed; there’s a faint but knowing smile throughout the day.
He is not frightened by the night – not startled by a flash of lightning.
Scampering squirrels and darting birds don’t undermine his calm reserve.
Content that what will be will be, amazed by nothing,
The Buddha sits.
If only I could find in me a bit of his serenity;
If only I could brush aside half of what the Buddha takes in stride.
The Buddha in the garden knows nothing of the news, knows nothing of the discord and the noise.
Politicians bluster; they promise and accuse. Despite it all, the Buddha keeps his poise.
Do not think his heart is hard; there’s much we all could disregard.
He knows that he cannot control the dissonance that comes and goes.
Content that what will be will be, amazed by nothing,
The Buddha sits.