Buddha words

When, in the freshness of the early morning sunshine,
against the backdrop of the garden you love,
the bees, contentedly moving from flower to flower,
are humming harmoniously amongst the red poppies,
consider this: the perfection of the scene
is no more perfect than all scenes, including you.
 
If, at your work, opening your lunchbox,
you find amongst the lettuce leaves you picked that morning
a poppy petal, blood red amongst the green,
reflect that this gift from the cosmos is no more special
than the gift of all that surrounds you each day.
 
When, over two or three days, the silky petal
dries to different shades of dark red,
and becomes delicately resilient to your touch,
please extend your enjoyment of the beauty of change
to include the insecurity that you live amongst 
 
And if, after drought, a thunderstorm comes in the night,
the flashes manifesting through your closed eyelids,
soaking the poppies with rain, consider this:
there is nothing in the universe more deserving of love than you,
and love is saturating you already,
however much your closed eyes refuse to see.

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