The Unreality of Anything as Unimportant as Just Death

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The Buddha and true Buddhas theorize

That death is nothing we should grieve about

Because it’s just appearance, just a guise,

And not reality.  The mourners shout

And wail around him, even beasts around

His deathbed.  Monks and laity lament

His coming death.  There isn’t any sound

Because it’s only brush strokes.  Life well spent

Is mere appearance, too, but Buddhas see

The actuality, that death just seems

And life itself is barely filigree

Around it.  There’s no need for tears and screams.

  The faces of the Buddhas are serene

    Because the Buddha’s teachings supervene.

© Phillip Whidden