I DREAM OF BUDDHIST CHILDREN

One hot Sunday afternoon
Having missed mass
For lack of motivation
I dreamt of Buddhist children

They were dressed in long robes
Of orange
And pink,
Bare feet
And walked, tranquil
Along a shaded grassy path
Of broken concrete

I saw naughty ones too-
Two of them
Teasing a girl
Walking ahead

And I wondered
How possible is it
To walk the path of peace
And still be happy
When all around is chaos
And trouble

Like the man in my dream
Who hit a hockey ball
To my face
And missed?

And how mortified I was
Ranting at the man
And the first thought was
To throw the ball
Right back at him
And not miss

It turned to stone
In my hand

And before I could hurl it
A thought in mind passed
That it would hurt him bad
And I did not really wish that

But I wanted to make him pay
For his rash, foolish action!
Make him go through hell
To get his ball back

So I had a fine mind
Of throwing the heavy stone
Over the high wall next to me

Then again I thought:
What if there was
Another person
On the other side of this wall
And this stone in my hand
Landed squarely on their head?

That’s the last I recall
Of my dream

But when I awoke
Though a tad disturbed
I understood

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