Monday, September 5, 2011

TOOTHLESS BODHISATTVA

He will tell you
that the distance
between a tear
and a laugh
is the span
of a mother’s arm.
He knows the duration
of sadness is identical
to a shnork*.
He cannot understand
how you could
have forgotten  all this.
He doesn’t know
why you cannot recall
that enlightenment is
no more than a giggle.


  
*shnork (n.):  the sound of a grandfathers nose slowly approaching, then just touching that of his infant grandson.

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