When Jesus and the Buddha met
\nin a meadow of larkspurs, on a balmy day,
\nthe bees of the valley went mad with love,
\nthe sky and the sun were a glaze.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet us sit on the grass,\u201d said Buddha.
\nAnd they rested their traveling bones.
\nOne in cambric, the other in saffron,
\nand the air was the color of amber.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been to gather the children
\nwho cling to a life of disease.
\nThe ones abandoned in alleys
\nof harrowing megacities.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere are their souls,\u201d Christ said,
\npointing to the larkspurs, reaching the high hills.
\nA breeze blew over the meadow,
\nrippling the flowers like a banner.<\/p>\n
\u201cI,\u201d said the Buddha, \u201chave sat down in silence.
\nI was that eerie quietude
\nin the midst of the ratcheting guns
\nwhen all that they saw was a mirror,<\/p>\n
\u201cand they knew what they had done.\u201d
\nThe bees made a loud buzzing
\nlike the din of an ancient battle.
\nThen they were still.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had nothing to teach, but mercy,\u201d said Christ.
\n\u201cAnd patience,\u201d Buddha added.
\nThen they gathered their belongings and parted
\nover diverging hills, each alone in his thoughts.
\n______________________________________<\/p>\n