Dreaming With Siddhartha Poem by Niko Tiliopoulos

The monasteries of the Buddha
were sleeping fireflies,
fragile candles of souls,
as they were hanging in grace
on the icy slopes of the Himalayan walls
that guarded, majestically,
the moonlit waters of the peaceful lake.

Aeons of chants were filling the air
with an ether of iridescent colours of harmonies
that danced like vibrant spirits,
cocooning the landscape
in joy and humility.

On the lake,
floating platforms of ancient wood
held tiny torches of hope
and the weight of the monks
that orchestrated this choir
of melodies and light.

And there I was,
absorbing this feast of life,
paralysed in ecstasy,
before my mind
drifted into oblivion:

A dream of infinity...

-Yes-

A dragon in a triangle of flames...

-Yes-

An infant baptised in loneliness...

-Me-

This is not here,
nor it’s real,
all an adventure of the soul.
There is no “now”
in the aging of the moment...

And just before
I was carried away by the clouds
thoughts were awaken:

“I give you nothing,
for all you have.
I ask for nothing,
for I am everything.”