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Illustration reference: Greco-Buddhist art of Gandhara

1st century AD

Oh Buddha on the mountaintop

How do I make the sad thoughts stop

How do I make peace with this life

That seems to never end with strife

And if I were to solve that riddle

Move that needle, just a little

More shall come to take its place

All effort seems to go to waste

Is there a secret that you’re hiding

Does crying give you call for chiding?

Is asking why a show of weakness?

And of me I’d hate you to think less

Your silence seems to weigh so heavy

As if my burden acts as levy

That knowing look, it says to me

Be open to epiphany!

Let me guess, and take a chance here

Our very struggle, is the answer?

The climb is where repute is made

No matter how steep is the grade

To reach the top, or make attempt

It bolsters spirit, builds up strength

So when discord cascades hard down

We’re more equipped to turn around

I see now what I’m fast becoming

The remedy I’ll learn to summon

Deep inside, turns weak to strong

Most likely was there all along!

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