“Brahmin” by Kieran Holland

Anonymous, arthritic hands
Dessicated from sands of time
Staggering over hot desert lands
Overtaken by thoughts sublime

A withered unknown Brahmin
Who sits and contemplates
He’s crossed the stream of suffering
Standing on the further shore
For Nirvana he now waits

Unattached from people and money
Unaffected by blame and praise
He finds the worldly fickle and funny
Bad actors in self-made plays

Looking past beauty of forms
To a realm that few are shown
Entering psychological heaven
A Buddha on a lotus throne

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