Crystal clarity begins to grow within
Like a bud, Buddha Flower blossoming
And All-Awareness sparks a glow within
From the common seed of commonsense.

In fullness of bloom the Lotus
Emits a spectral radiance
Unseen except by the seer
Who sees the light and delights
In its reflection.

Thus the Lotus-Born form: 7-petaled flower
At the peak of bloom.

But flowers fade in the afternoon
In the world of shade, the shade of Hades.
Or else they meet their ordained fate
Of getting pollinated and become known
As fruits.

And even fruits are full of grace,
Especially the ones that offer themselves
For eating, for the good of seedhood
And, perhaps, for fun or adventure
In far distant glands, absorbing the
Mystery of the Tree.

But wait! The flower cannot be before the bud
And fruits must ripen in the sun and drop
Graciously groundward with a gentle thud.
Nowhere along the way must stop
This everlasting lifecycle of earthcrop.

For the bud withers without flowering
That lingers long in sad sad thoughts
Of vanished seed-dreams;
While the stale flower cannot maintain
Its position long without becoming a
Cause for shame; in delicate good grace
Wilting in its day, it disappears from view,
Not staying to stain its beauteous name.

Furthermore the fruit tastes sourly green
That responds poorly to the warmth of life
Beneath the garden sun, and in like manner
Fruits that stubbornly cling on
Become sickly sweet to taste,
And thus are left to waste.


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