The old, rotund monk
is his gray robes stood
outside Osaka Station
gently swinging his small bell, chanting .
A child of five tugged
on his mother’s sleeve
as she pulled him
toward the subway.
“Is he the Buddha”
the boy asks, pulling back
“No,” she said, “he is not
though he searches
each day for enlightenment.”
The boy, pulling free
of his mother’s grasp
pulls at the monk’s robe
“Can I find enlightenment?”
he asks the now smiling man.
“You may,” he says
“but only if you never seek it.”