I wonder where we’d be without the judgment of others. I wonder what we would look like. Who would we be?
I think I’d be a Buddha sitting under a tree.In a world that’s gone crazy A crowd stops by my home They stare at a sight They have never quite known. I’m sitting in stillness Tattered clothes on my back I’m full of contentment Yet all they see is I lack. They laugh and they shout As I sit under my tree “Get a job you old bum, You need to be more like me!” With a snort and a laugh They will surely all scurry They have deadlines to meet And lives full of worry. And while we hustle and bustle In the new cars we buy We ignore the things That survive when we die. Yet in sitting and loving And being so dull What was closed is now open An empty cup is now full. This tree blocks the sun On the hottest part of the day The fruit falls from its branches To the soft grass where I lay. The rain softly caresses My skin and my hair, And while I choose to sit still There is nothing keeping me there. I’ll smile in silence A withered hand I’ll extend There is nothing to lose When everything is your friend. The clouds will float by The seasons will change, The clock will strike zero What was real will seem strange. And on my last breath This old man will have shown There was nothing he’d lost In the life he had known. But for now I will sit A man trying to see That brave part of himself That sits under a tree.