Reaching for What May Not Be There

I smile wistfully at Bhudda’s face.
Calm. Serene. wondering at my own meditations,
now and again reaching that calmness, but more often
a smokescreen for the chaos that comes
from looking too deep within.

Looking within is too often a place of uncertainty,
a look to the past and past failures to understand
the most basic things that go on in a man’s heart.
The broken parts become too evident,

and it becomes hard to sort skin from scar.

About this poem.

Looking back has its uses. But that does not mean it is easy, or without its pain.

Poetry is funny stuff. In editing this one, I removed one word. One. Making the poem less complete, but a far better poem.

The picture was taken, not in a temple, but in someone’s garden in Provincetown, Mass.

Tom