I met
a buddhist teacher
he was old and grey
but his wisdom
was fresh and minty
he spoke of fearlessness
and compassion
I listened for a while
but there was no truth
in his words for me
so as the others chanted
I turned to the sky
and as the afternoon
drifted into the night
I found myself
beneath a bowl of stars
and a single shinning truth
the days are often warm
and the nights are often cold
we are born
we eventually die
but inbetween
there's fun to be had
