Empiric Reality (The Reality Can Test By Experience) Poem by Nirmal Kumar Thapa

Empiric Reality (The Reality Can Test By Experience)



On the name of Buddha,
They're active
For a yogic practice
A huge white bowl,
appears still with silence
From long ago, more than,
Equating to the countless of years;
Two- half awakened eyes lying there,
Are same and still cheering;
Delighted with same empathic deep sight,
towards the guests
And I sent my ray to them
I knew they're Buddhist,
And doing a practice com passion
Touching the Earth;
I am sighted at their forehead,
with some mystical delights,
And full of love,
compassion & equanimity;
While they were active,
they have touch the Earth deeply,
Seems to be surrendering,
to their- own- dear mother;
By two legs, two hands,
forehead & perfectly whole body
Allowing it, transcending themselves!
To see them,
feeling the magic,
a pride and notions,
Entering to the world of things as they are,
I celebrate myself;
Being sighted on me
Realized my own inner-most secret;
And returned to the treasured childhood,
Where I live without knowing,
with emptiness;
Bearing a smile of Godliness,
I'm not a just seer,
I joined with them
Who are still doing same practice?
On the name of Buddha
Where are only love,
joy and compassion?
We were together without separate beings;
Standing in the front of the Stupa,
A yellow sun shining more and turning to red,
But I adage a flower on the edge of curio shop;
Even flower cannot exist with disseverance,
or independently
It is fostered entirely;
Nurtured flower is a "non-element-ous"
But my being is, made of non-me elements
Nothing can exist by itself alone
We both survive collectively,
We don't have separate selves
Slightly, a dove appeared
I altered myself and flew away
Om comes from the far-distant ecstasy;
Strikes a chord, like my mother calls,
Surrounding the tenners, are enchanting the echoes of Om
Name being real, and a voice too;
Only truths left behind the narration of manhood,
"Om"; A sound of creation
Beginning and ending with the word of God,
Monks and nuns, are still practicing the same;
While I opened my eyes wide,
I'm not the same
I fail to spot and lost the trinkets;
My short-past moments, carry me on the Godly realms
And we traveled together,
To attain the ultimate one;
Thanking all, on the name of Buddha,
I want to recall them
From the Aastika (a prophet, fellow of Suddhodhan.)
to Aananda(a beloved disciple of Gautama)
Om Mane Padhme Hum…
The lotus and the jewel spelled together;
From muddy earth to the majestic grottos,
Where there are the echoes of God and his eternal grace;
Om mane padhme hum
Buddham Sharanam Gachhami
Naman to the all wise people, enjoy the wisdom!
. -28th Sept, '07

Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love and art
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
voyage of unknown
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tim Lohan 22 December 2017

Great poem reflecting Buddha and His teaching

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