gone tomorrow

~ gone tomorrow ~

tomorrow they will not know me
they have lost who I am
now only a shell to observe
a cocoon dangling in the air
motionless until they pass
adjusting only to the current
of their movement
inside growing, changing,
transforming, waiting
until my time
to emerge anew
beautiful
and gone
forever

One of my old poems

~ Buddha’s belly ~

I rub old Buddha’s belly
I rub it every day
And when I rub his tummy
This is what I say
Woe and pain and solitude
Will surely come my way
But let me live another day
Be that what it may
Now Buddha always looks at me
He even cracks a smile
But never has he giggled
And I’ve watched him quite a while
So as my teacher teaches me
I smile at all I pass
But try to hold my giggles in
Till they are gone at last