The Bodhi Tree

His body calm, still with a purpose reached
With eyes shut, but aglow with penetrating insight
In a world aflame with fire, craving and passion
He sits, our wisest teacher with infinite compassion.

The Master opens his eyes, alone, free
Awake, finally from an endless sleep
Surveys a world so caught in suffering, in pain, in ignorant desire
As a gentle dewdrop falls from a deep green leaf, water on an extinguished fire.

He wipes the drop gently, thanks the tree above,
The wind rustles through, the sound of silence
Birds chirp, a deer pauses, thunder roars and the rain falls
And the sounds pierce the heavens, for its the Master's call

The tree stands tall, its arms spread wide
Its leaves and branches in a sheltering canopy
Here, besides the Neranjara, the Master sat on a full moon night
It is here that he ended his struggle, his long, timeless fight

The Bodhi tree as it is called now
Still stands tall, the same tree, with the faithful below
Inspiring millions, all sentient beings, of race, caste and creed
A reminder of what was, what is, and what can be.

Nishikanta Verma