BROKEN ARMED BUDDHA

he whispered his tale in our ears,
eyes smiling while times grew tougher.
as we cried for his severed hold,
we knew we were born to suffer.

he sacrificed his left hand,
trying to save the right hand man.
the fingers reaching out to teach
lost grasp of the misguided plan.

who threw money at the future
and let dust collect on the past?
who left their conscience on the shelf
to buy a god that will not last?

chop off the limb of consequence
from the forgotten trees of soul.
five bucks for a broken armed buddha!
would we pay more if he was whole?

calculate the price of karma?
is it not priceless in itself?
where will your heart lead your hands to?
can your eyes spot truth on a shelf?

when will you find some meaning
in how you live and what you do?
where will you rest your wistful eyes
when the broken smile upon you?

©Copyright 2003 Sheila Cook.