Final Requiem for the Silver Maple

Yesterday the city came to grind the stump of the Silver Maple. JB carved a Buddha in a chunk of the tree, which he said oozed with sap as he carved.

This Buddha sits on the piano right as you walk into our house.

I am of the Nature
to grow old.
There is no way to escape
growing old.
I am of the nature
to have ill health.
There is no way to escape
having ill health.
I am of the Nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me
and everyone I love is of the Nature
to change.
There is no way to escape being
separated from them.
My actions are my only
true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences
of my actions.
My actions are the ground
on which I stand.

—Shakyamuni Buddha

This entry was posted in aging, death, garden, nature, transformation and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Final Requiem for the Silver Maple

  1. JEROME BLOOM says:

    MAPLE TEARS
    CARVING CHIPS
    BUDDHA WORDS

    WHAT MORE
    NEEDS
    TO BE
    SAID

  2. Anonymous says:

    Amazing the strength of poetry!

  3. Pingback: Wisdom and poetic inspiration on the parkway | Nexus

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