Why the Bhudda Laughs

The laughing bhudda is almost as tall as I am.
Surrounded by a dozen other statues of equal size,
he is the only one who laughs.
The others are solemn, peaceful perhaps
but you get the feeling they are deep in thought,
lost in a universe the rest of us cannot see.

I prefer the laughing Bhudda.
Never mind that in some circles he is a stereotype,
even a silly kind of joke, but I have a suspicion
that the joke is on us.

His smile is broad. He is not laughing at someone
but in joy. For he knows the secret of the universe,
that we were made for joy, and made to return joy,
and when we do, we know all the secrets of the universe.
He laughs for he is there. He laughs,
as we chase everything except what
brings us joy, working so hard
for what is right in front of us all the time.

About this poem

About fat laughing Bhuddas. And my theory that they are beautifully joyful because of what they know. Joy is from within. About depression, because on of the lessons I have learned in my own journey is that the joy is inside me, not external, and so no matter how things around me suck, joy is possible. About God, because ideally, he is what is inside us. About stereotypes and how there is always another way to look at them. About gratitude, because that is so often the path of joy, finding it where you are.

Poetry is never about one thing.

Tom

PS: From an Asian artifacts store down in Great Barrington Mass. The courtyard was full of giant bhuddas of all persuasions, nations, and expressions. I had always laghed at laughing Bhuddas but this big guy drew me and I just stood there a while, trying to understand why.

PPS: I am an unabashed, cross wearing Christian, but there is so much in Bhuddism to admire and so much we Christians can benefit from. I admire my friends that follow Bhuddist path.