Bcome Sit With Me Under The Banyan Poem by Barry A. Lanier

Began life like a lone, simple rose,
To impose and reclaim it's domain.
God so impressed with the Bodhi,
Out of honor, changed his name.

Come lounge under shade of my Banyan,
Impelled we might glimpse a parcel of truth.
Trek toward nirvana like Buddha,
Careening our backs upon it's roots.

Magestic, gnarled arms,
Serpentine and slender.
In it's spell of acceptance,
We might casually surrender.

O' tree that's a forest,
Sanctuary our senses.
Ocean of shade,
Tear down our fences.

To awaken enlightened,
And rise to our feet.
Or perhaps dream off silently,
Toward a mystical sleep.

Ficcus Benghalensis,
Buddha under your spell.
After five hundred generations,
This ancient father fell.

What touches has love,
Always a face.
Halcyon arms caress,
Imbue me with grace.

Prayer in humility,
As any wise man knows.
Tiny Banyan afoot,
Inexorably grows.

Bury me deep at it's feet,
After my demise,
But remember me as my Banyan,
Not in death but in life.