the sage

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Oh saffron-robed friend
I've seen you in many ages
you have many faces
but the same eyes.

Bowl in hand you walk
a silent protest
to pomp and power
Do they ever suspect?

In you, I seek refuge
freedom
compassion
forgiveness-
not in false gods who never appear.

Tell me of my history,
lost somewhere
in the dunes,
covered by earths of conquest,
Were we all one once?

I see myself in you
your silent protest
to disputed tales
about being and non-being.

I'll fill that bowl,
'til we meet again
over the aeons,
for you have my answers.


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