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Under the Bodhi Tree, the Buddha battled the forces of Mara.
Mara's Bane

The wish I have today:
turn arrows into flowers.

Who cares who wins debates--
there is a higher power!

Like throwing poison spears
at dust motes in a sunbeam,

we throw them out of fear,
and always fail it seems.

Oh Mara, coming at me,
thoughts and dreaming streams.

The truth, your bane, is hastening,
awareness is now happening.

Arrows flung by wanting,
always coming at me.

But though the arrow's daunting,
I let it travel through me.

I smile with zeal and mirth,
heap love upon my enemy.

Arrows pierce my force field,
though nothing's really there,

I'm made of things, and things
are made of things and air.

And now you stand there angry,
in petals on the turf.

Standing there, revealed,
upset, demanding worth.

The truth is my awakening,
your bane has set me free.

For now I know I'm not me,
and simply touch the earth.
© Copyright 2011 Dan Sturn (dansturn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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