by Allan G. Aquino
Know the strength of where
you come from, the master taught.
All you have to do is see.
I rest my palms,
I forgive my borrowed visions.
I ponder the science of bamboo.
I behold everything and know, with better eyes,
the lostness he wanted me to find. Redeemed,
I name him the Optometrist and the Lens.
We look toward the kinship
of Christ and the Buddha.
Then, before years drifted past, I left him
with a namaste, hoping to love the
two or three books he’d yet to write.
But I still believe in brighter places.
See, now, the lands, lifetimes,
the unwritten dreamscapes.
However they’d come and go, watch closely
and you’ll see how they’re in our blood, real
as the mountain his gaze carved well.
© Allan G. Aquino