poetry: the buddha's last instruction

i'm not a buddhist.

but i am a spiritual person. and stuff like that is important to me. if you want to get an idea why, check out:
http://jonathaninthedistance.blogspot.com/2007/01/extra-off-day-of-poetry.html

and if you want more, check out:
http://jonathangetsalife.blogspot.com/2007/01/more-poetry.html

this was written by a pulitzer-prize winning poet named Mary Oliver. yeah, so she's just another Western barbarian doing the artsy froo-froo thing.

but sometimes, people just get it...

The Buddha's Last Instruction
"Make of yourself a light "
said the Buddha,
before he died.
I think of this every morning
as the east begins
to tear off its many clouds
of darkness, to send up the first
signal - a white fan
streaked with pink and violet,
even green.
An old man, he lay down
between two sala trees,
and he might have said anything,
knowing it was his final hour.
The light burns upward,
it thickens and settles over the fields.
Around him, the villagers gathered
and stretched forward to listen.
Even before the sun itself
hangs, disattached, in the blue air,
I am touched everywhere
by its ocean of yellow waves.
No doubt he thought of everything
that had happened in his difficult life.
And then I feel the sun itself
as it blazes over the hills,
like a million flowers on fire-
clearly I'm not needed
yet I feel myself turning
into something of inexplicable value.
Slowly, beneath the branches,
he raised his head.
He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd.