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Compassionate Beauty

(Guan Yin, or Quan Yin, is a Buddhist bodhisattva of compassion)

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Recorded Reading: https://www.dropbox.com/s/aqwab6qqwoaczm3/Compassionate%20Beauty.mp3?dl=0

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Compassionate Beauty

The first few times I youthful saw
A statue of Guan Yin
It left me lingering a state
Of some confusion in

No matter what the time it was
No matter where the place
I always noticed something
About the Goddess’ face

Though lovely robes swirled gorgeously
Her sacred figure round about
And from her head compassion gleamed
Full radiantly out

Giving forth the mercy
Allowing others well to live
Yet fate had not been kind enough
To she herself true beauty give

Some friends their trouble took to try
To this young doubter to explain
That were she blessed with loveliness
Such would have made our Guan Yin vain

And thus much less concerned
Her fellow beings’ troubles with
But always it stuck in my craw
Such a self destructive myth

Now, I myself had reason to
Their reasoning believe
For I myself in childhood did
The gift of ugliness receive

In just as nearly every way
One unattractive may become:
Large yellow teeth projectingly
Set into far too little gum

Facially collapsed by the
Much less than unskillful adepts
Manipulating at my birth
A set of very high forceps

Scrawny in the body
Bulging ’bout the brow
Beneath which glasses slid
About as thick as laws allow

Chronic sinus blockages
Noisy made my nose
And we won’t even talk about
My out of fashion clothes

And I remember thinking
That I happy was to be let in
On an understanding
Of the unforgiving sin

With which we treat those women
Who from strict standards deviate
Of cosmetic perfection
And demeanor delicate

Later, I remember, too
Feeling sorry for
Those beauties smiles had always known
And very little more

But very smally am inclined
To stop at this bitter belief
For there be more on this to say
Might bring us some relief

One dismal evening, having my
Lessons of plainness learned
In feminine angst and despair
I to my mirror turned

For beauty, inner and outer
This poetic heart burned
And asked, if it were possible,
How such a beauty may be earned

“Think thoughts of beauty,” answer came
“Feel feelings beauty of,
Imagine beautiful events,
Immerse yourself in love

For every creature God has made,
For every soul you pass,
For every tree and every cloud,
For every single blade of grass

As time moves on, reflections of
The face you bring your presence to
Will be transformed to represent
The soul and heart and whole of you”

Acting on this advise, I can
Its brilliant benefits report
A lifetime’s praises strangers from
But here’s the sweet and short:

Sitting at a coffee shop
One Mr. Peet’s by name
I heard a passing customer
Without preamble to exclaim

“You’re beautiful!” When I looked up
To see whom that beauty be
I found a smiling woman looking
Happily at me

Now this would not deserve more than
A glance, turning the page,
If I were not quite rapidly
Approaching sixty years of age

By service to beauty itself
By beauty’s lessons learned
I beauty for myself
And those around myself have earned

This is the time in history
This is the planet, this the place
This the galactic Nexus
This the fated human race

Who sudden at the crossroads
Of our past and future find
That there is much reality
To which we have been blind

Suddenly we’re connected
Suddenly we have access to
The wisdoms of the ages
And one another, too

Now is the moment to rewrite
Our planetary script
Now is the time to lift ourselves
From the depths to which we’ve slipped

It’s now at last we have been given
Every piece this puzzle of
Now is when we codify
Our new priority as love

And, loving one another,
Every face begins to shine
With peacefulness and happiness,
Intention all benign

When beauty catches on it can
Augment itself by being good
We’ll have nothing but beauties
In every neighborhood!

And that is why it comes as a
Distinct relief to see
In our ascension artwork
Much more often, gratefully,

That — after all the others,
As she vowed that it would be —
Personal beauty given is
To compassionate she

*****

This poet is physically disabled. Public housing being insufficient to her medical and creative needs, she is presently livingin order to continue workingin her minivan, publishing all of her works using one thumb on the touch screen of her smartphone at an income of a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. She would treasure any donation you might care to offer ~ http://www.UgiftABLE.com ● #72D-31S

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Published by Ana Daksina

Read worldwide one million times, Ana Daksina is a Troubador of the coming age.

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