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Buddha Socks



Buddha Socks


Days do not number
The miss-steps of my soul’s journey

Years and decades of seeking and searching
Lost and looking—occasionally knowing

Only for a moment with certainty
Before the trance of daily life and doing the laundry

Overshadow insights that would unlock
The mystery of socks tumbling in the dryer

Socks don’t know emotions—
They just know our feet.

They wrap our heels and toes unconditionally
Paying no attention to the emotions of the moment

The funeral, the wedding, another day at work—
The socks are just there for us

After a day of being very human
We take them off and toss them into the laundry

Perhaps socks
Are the Buddha


(I don’t know the original dates on this.  It is actually two separate poems which I found in old journals and merged into one poem  I luv it…)



Comments

  1. deborahMay 10, 2018 at 10:22 AM

    I really like this poem. Sometimes rediscovering a long ago poem and piecing it together with another one, brings out the best poem.

    ReplyDelete

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