Vairocana by TS Collins
Honey-sweet luminous sun,
Nourishing the skin with seeds
For our sad selfish needs.
Shine light upon what we
Hide deep beneath
The darkness of our Dharma.
A vast gate serving two functions-
Enter and exit.
We were forced the former
Yet we rush the latter.
A camel caught squeezed
Within the eye of the needle.
Virgin white snow,
Compound of the pure-
Destroyed to a pragmatic putrid
Puke-green tint as the rays
Cast down into a spiral
Of disgusting relevance.
We do not share Dainichi-
But the sun still burns
Our retinas to pools
Of blistered black.
Everyone shares this
Trait that refutes beauty.
