Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2018 | Page 85

The Buddha, The Tailor
Chinese International School, Shin, Ethan – 15
Dreams are the tailor of a man’s legacy,
Dressing the man in his future
As they see fit.
It may, perhaps, be glorious
Dining on ceramic plates with nobles.
It may be unsightly;
A beheading upon the glance of an emperor
With each trod,
My miserable horse delivered me deeper
Into a myriad dimension of lifeless sand
Like my dream had envisioned,
A dream personally delivered by The Buddha himself.
Drifting down from the sky
As gently as a feather, but as gloriously as a phoenix,
He urged me to start my journey.
In the blinding blaze of the Gobi Desert,
My horse was showered in sweat.
I lethargically unsaddled, collapsing on the scorching sand
As the Tang Watchtower glimmered with warm brilliance in the distance.
My mouth yearned for the banquets,
My throat for the cool water at the Watchtower,
But I would never surrender my dream.
Having traversed the sweltering Gobi Desert,
I arrived at the city of the Buddha - Gao Chang.
Its extravagant silk and flourishing markets was enviable to the eye,
But it was through visiting modest Buddhist temples
Where monks vowed to accompany me in my odyssey
That my humble soul was pacified and reignited.
Disregarding all warnings about Mount Ling,
I resumed my journey to the West.
As foretold, Mount Ling was a cold-blooded murderer
Boasting a fleet of icicle spears,
That would send a bitter chill through a man’s bones.
Its rounds of avalanches swallowed men whole,
Burying a third of my companions in a trail of snow.
As much as I shed icy tears for them,
I never surrendered my dream.
Until I returned to China with the Sanskrit texts
To achieve my dream of clarifying Chinese Buddhism,
The Buddha was tailoring my legacy,
Using garments from his palatial wardrobe
As he saw fit.