Basalt Buddhas

They shut you out, these Buddhas. Our thoughts tumble around their serene,

stony faces like storm surges against granite cliffs, their secrets locked

behind those lidded eyes, the half smiles. They smile as the mosses

creep over their heads, as the lichens dust their cheeks. They smile

as the trees force themselves up around their basalt bodies.

They smile as we, like ants, swarm over and around them,

as evanescent as mayflies on a single, summer’s day.

Through the mirror of their stillness we see our secret

selves reflected and hear an echo in their silence,

“Who are you?” Within the sepulchres of

those closed, stone faces lie

 the answers, locked.

And on and

on they

smile

!