The Buddha rests,
feet folded above the pink lotus,
its roots mired in mud.
His belly is full, his face reflects contentment,
his thoughts float far away,
yet I’d rather see him laugh, now,
his belly shake in sheer enjoyment.
I am surrounded by illusion.
The first winter winds sweep
yellow and red leaves up into a gray sky.
Two Canada geese honk their way south.
My African violets quiver in morning light.
Winter comes. My writing rests.
But I remember laughing,
for I hold a four-month-old baby.
Her eyebrows lift and her lips
curve into welcome,
a grand chortle
worthy of any Buddha.
Today's Octpowrimo prompt is laughter. How lucky we are when laughter informs each day. Click HERE to see how other writers celebrate laughter.
Real life swirls around me. Change is constant. Commitments and obligations yammer away. I'm truly not able to do all I'd like to do. Yet these moments of laughter hold all together. May your week go well. Tonight I see Leda Rose once again and will watch her face transform with joy.
Really like this poem!
ReplyDeleteComing of winter, nay. Laughing, happy babies, yay! :) Beautiful imagery. Really like "The first winter winds sweep yellow and red leaves up into a gray sky."
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