Poem: “The Birth of the Buddha — 11.22.1949”


New born,
I shine as gold.
My blue eyes glow.

Seven steps I take,
a lotus in each footprint.

Pointing to the sky, I say:
“I am born for the welfare of the entire world.”



The shock again.
The pain, weight, edge of body.

Trek again.
Find again the balance.
Find again the rhythm.
Find again.

Chuckle at the impossibility.
Chuckle at the simplicity.



Let go.

Patrick T. Reardon

NOTE: I’m Catholic, not Buddhist. Nonetheless, I found Little Buddha to be one of the most spiritual movies I’ve ever seen. It contains a charming and transcendent scene of the birth of Siddhartha, who became the Buddha. That story is repeated in a book I happen to be reading right now, Women of the Way: Discovering 2500 Years of Buddhist Wisdom by the wonderful writer Sallie Tisdale. These are descriptions of what those present saw. But what was it like for the baby himself? And how was his experience like mine, like everyone’s? (I was born on 11.22.1949.) I also find endearing the many descriptions of Buddha laughing and smiling.

The birth scene from "Little Buddha" and the cover of "Women of the Way"

The birth scene from “Little Buddha” and the cover of “Women of the Way”

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