The Hungry Buddha

Hunger Pangs.
Venomous fangs.
All within and around. Surrounding.
The meditating eye trembles and opens.
But sees no enlightenment.
Just hunger in its forms.
Craving for more. Hunger for knowledge.
Thirst to quench. Power to drench.

This Buddha is not the one with saffron attire.
With long earlobes and expectations on pyre.

This Buddha is a darkened man.
Still darkening with each autumn and fall.
Fire lit within and spreading on the light.
With witty remarks, anectodes, and sometimes with might.
'Satisfy hunger and attain enlightenment', he says
Banks on the fact that this is the simplest of all ways.
Skinny and meek,
But with huge appetite.
To eat, to know, to explore to wonder,
To quench, to drench, to find, to ponder.

The Hungry Buddha has thus risen. To turn each tide his way.
To make the winds blow, to make the sun rise, all under his sway.