Who Was/Is Buddha Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A prince was born, in a land so fair,
Young Siddhartha, with golden hair.
He lived in palaces, a life of ease,
With all the comforts that could please.

But outside walls, he saw things new,
An old man weak, a sickness true.
A body still, forever gone,
A holy man, seeking the dawn.

He saw the pain, the sorrow deep,
And vowed a promise he would keep.
He left his home, his wealth, his name,
To find an end to life's hard game.

He walked and starved, for years he strove,
Then found a way, a gentle grove.
Beneath a tree, he sat so still,
And found the truth, his spirit's fill.

Awakened one, the Buddha bright,
He shared his wisdom, shining light.
Life has its hurts, he gently said,
But peace can come, when craving's fled.

A path of balance, clear and good,
To understand, and live as should.
With mindful heart and actions kind,
True liberation you will find.

He taught of seeds that we all sow,
That actions shape where we will go.
Through cycles turning, life anew,
Until Nirvana sees us through.