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All things quiet and beautiful
by Anne Howe
There is peace in this place
Where the Buddha smiles
Bamboo chimes play to the breeze
And the air is sweet with incense rising
In upward swirls of prayer
Saffron robes, dyed by a thousand crocus stigma
Are a great equalizer amongst men here
Where there is no rich man in his castle'
'Poor man at his gate';
'High or lowly' **
The early morning air wafts savoury odours
From alms bowls,
Filled by grateful souls
Who come to offer Dana here
And the monk's task?
To attain wisdom and a moral mind;
Develop patience and generosity
Those qualities innate in all of mankind
A fact which oft eludes the mind of modern man
 **from All things bright and beautiful
Mrs. C.F. Alexander 1818-1895
08/10/2002 Posted on 08/10/2002
Copyright © 2024 Anne Howe
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