O Buddha, thy golden sermon of mercy ran like revivifying water through rocky gorges of gloomy hearts, illuminating their darkness.
Thou lofty soarer in renunciation’s skies, before thy God‐lifted eyes the kingdom of sense‐comfort was overrun by monks and nuns preaching inner freedom. Swollen rivers of greed; vast, lust-scorched deserts of desire; tall trees of temporal ambition; cactus plants of prickly worries: all melted into smallness, then to invisibility.
Buddha, the arc‐light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Thou didst even save a lamb once, by offering thyself in its stead.
Thy solemn thoughts even now roam silently through the ether of all minds, searching for ecstasy‐tuned hearts. Seated under the bodhi tree, thou madest a solemn tryst with the Spirit:
“Beneath this sacred bough,
On my seat of dedication
I take this solemn vow:
Let derma, bones, and fragile flesh dissolve,
But until life’s mystery I solve
And find that all‐coveted, Priceless truth, From this spot shall I never, never stir: Oh, nevermore!”
Thou symbol of sympathy, incarnation of mercy, give us thy great will power that we may seek the truth as determinedly as didst thou. Bless us that, like thee, we may awaken to seek remedy for the sorrow‐throbs of all others, as we seek it for ourselves.