Buddha's Hands

Went round to the Buddhist Monastery near where we used to live, half an hour of peace and calm. These are the hands of the dharma hall Buddha, in the Dhyana Mudra, the hand position meaning that the Buddha is disciplining his mind through mental concentration. Seated position, both hands in the lap, right on top of left, palms upwards.

I came across the poet Mary Oliver several years ago and loved her references to nature, but only today I found she had written this Buddhist poem.


The Buddha's Last Instruction

"Make yourself a light,"
said the Buddha,
before he died.
I think of this every morning
as the east begins
to tear off its many clouds
of darkness, to send up the first
signal-a white fan
streaked with pink and violet,
even green.
An old man, he lay down
between two sala trees,
and he might have said anything,
knowing it was his final hour.
The light burns upward,
it thickens and settles over the fields.
Around him, the villagers gathered
and stretched forward to listen.
Even before the sun itself
hangs, disattached, in the blue air,
I am touched everywhere
by its oceans of yellow waves.
No doubt he thought of everything
that had happened in his difficult life.
And then I feel the sun itself
as it blazes over the hills,
like a million flowers on fire-
clearly I'm not needed,
yet I feel myself turning
into something of inexplicable value.
Slowly, beneath the branches,
he raised his head.
He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd.

Mary Oliver
1935-