“This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds. To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance. A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky, rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.” – The Buddha Buddha Shakyamuni gave 84,000 different teachings […]
childbirth
I was Siddhartha’s Mother
They carried me into the forest. The sal trees, shaken by our clamour Showered small soft flowers on us. The trees’ slender trunks rose column-like Into the leaves, and everywhere, that scent. He was born on a floor of petals. Later, he will talk about impermanence: Bodies are flowers, fading. Faded, the newborn.