InsaneJournal

Bodhisattva by Cassandra Lebairon
Bodhisattva

He wants one. And so. She arrives in her gold
Buick Century beckoning him to satori. Gone

will be the pretence of buses, city streets, culture
that offers respite from nirvana. Her cure: cut

the bullshit. A tree is a tree, urban or suburban,
leaves green (going golden) need the burden

of a man ready for relief. Imagine the woman
at the post office knows your name and gives

you letters lost for years. Imagine the only sound
you hear, cicadas and wind; yes there is traffic off

of the highway, cadences new because distance
offers perspective. The Bodhisattva asks, don't you

want to live, break loose of loss and longing? She
comes, real, unforgiving. There is only one promise

land. Kneel to beauty. Bold need. Can you be bold?
And one more thing. I come disguised. So don't expect

ease. Don't expect to fake it because you're afraid.
Hells welcome the man who doesn't heed his call.

She can fall for the unenlightened mortal but that fall,
fleeting. Her recovery reminds all men of opportunity

lost. Hello. I have a car that will take
you away, but you have to drive.

~Cassandra Lebairon