Breaking the Ice with BuddhabyMy Erotic Trail©
Breaking the Ice with Buddha
In the idealistic Temple of my soul
out in the cold, shoveling snow.
He sits cross-legged,
waving his hand in the air
white as a snow capped mountain, his head
shaved for hair may knot and strangle concentration.
Tossing frozen rain, he will not do
he'll calls it, 'meaningless labor.'
"What is it you are doing?" He broke the ice.
"Shoveling snow" I tried to ignore him
driving the beveled blade deep into the snow.
His suggestion would be;
to let mother nature do this work
when ever she gets around to warming up the sun
simply let it melt away.
"Snowflake's enemy," he calls to me
last summer he called me 'Yard Artist'
when I cut the lawn.
"Why not use the portable
propane flame throwing heater
and melt the snow instantly?" He suggested.
"Because, I am almost out of propane!" I exclaimed,
my hands wrapped firmly
around the shovel's handle
releasing another load of white poop
and snow butterflies.
"Melt the snow with what propane there is
then drive to acquire more."
His words stuck in my mind where he sat,
like a wet tongue on a flag pole.
I stormed to the garage
retrieved the portable propane heater
and turned it on,
it blasted a six inch flame
and a four foot stream of heat
in a jiffy I had melted the snow
in the driveway, wondering
why this method had not been thought of before.
"Is Buddha a genius?"
He belly laughed his permanent jaded smile
I was standing in an ankle deep lake
of slowly freezing water
it had no way to trail off
from mounds of shoveled snow
as far as I can see,
"You can not manipulate the elements
without creating an alternate problem.
"Do you have any skates," He asked
as the water turned into
a five inch thick slate of ice
trying to turn a problem into a blessing.
"Need a jack-hammer?" He snickered.
I could've strangled him
but that would be suicide.
If acceptance is the key to tranquility
then I will never be tranquil
because I have a hard time understanding
why the price of propane doubled since yesterday.
"If one man has liquid heat and another does not;
their relationship becomes balanced by
currency... when it snows!"
Maybe Buddha will bless me
with a hot sun tomorrow
or he will be there, enlightening me,
while I shovel snow
...and break the ice!
(This poem was inspired by the Monthly Poetry Challenge (November) the poem is a 'spin off' of Billy Collin's poem; Shoveling Snow with Buddha)