Bearing Witness

After six years of hardships and self tormenting,

Siddhartha renounced the way of the ascetics.
He accepted a bowl of rice milk from a young girl and ate,
He put aside the rags he was wearing, bathed himself in the river,
Sat down in the shade of the Bodhi tree, and began to meditate

I will not move from this spot, he vowed
Until I have awakened to see the nature of existence
And understood the causes of human suffering.
Thus he said to himself.

All at once, Mara, the demon, the lord of Desire and Death,
Rose to challenge him,
And attacked with an army of one thousand demons.
But Siddhartha did not move.

Mara then teased him and cried,
I am the Buddha!
Give me that place!
I am the Awakened one! Not you!
Here are one thousand witnesses to my awakening!
Who is the witness to your awakening? Who will speak for you?
Show me!

Then Siddhartha reached out his right hand to touch the earth,
And with a great roar from the depths of the earth came the answer,
I bear you witness!

Then, the morning star rose in the sky,
And Siddhartha was awakened and became the Buddha

While touching the earth with his right hand, the new Buddha said,

Here is earth, and here I am.
Its a deal
And we bear witness to one another

This is because of that
If this arises, that arises

Earth is breathing, so I am,
Air is here in my breath, and I arise
You arise, therefore I am.
I am - and all is

When earth arises, my touching hand arises
Earth and everything arises
And bears me witness
All is so that I can see and cough and choke and love.

And when earth arises, saxophones arise, too
And bear me witness

Midnight subways arise, glassy street vagabonds,
White makeup on the dancers eyes arise
And bear me witness.

And yes,
My longing for my son Rahula* arises and
Bears me witness.

Archives of death sentences, poetry books,
And the pale air soaking into moonstruck women
The closing words of your letter
Bear me witness

The shadows of a useless tree,
Das Lied von der Erde sung on the beach
This wounded autumn of wandering pigeons
And yes,
My sons silence
Bears me witness

Crooked railways in a bombarded town,
Gloomy nights surrendered to city lights,
Second-hand hearts and afternoon jeans
Fireworks at the end of the Mourning Day
This bowl of sweet rice
Bear me witness

Stained yellow robes of bewitched monks
And seats of high priests
Zealously preaching
Awakening
Bear me witness

Fireflies that dance between here and Truth
Deformed roots entwined around themselves,
A ripe pear smashed on your knees,
Images of Lord Shiva, and offbeat neckties
Bear me witness
As does Death, trotting by
Bearing me witness in his notepad

My abandoned Rahula
Sleeping in his bed,
Shackled to my heart,
Bears witness to my awakening,
Unaware of my midnight escape for the sake of Truth

So my dear Mara, Lord of Desire,
Courier of Decay and Death
You, too, and your armies of demons,
Do gracefully bear me witness
And I bear you witness
Dont you see?

From the arising of this, that arises
When this ceases, that ceases to be
If this, so that
As my hand touches the earth
So everything becomes.

When love ceases, I cease, is that clearer now?
That is my Awakening

If this is, all is
Otherwise, no deal.

How am I to be without all this bearing me witness
How is all this to be without me bearing you witness


[Note *: Rahula was Siddharthas only son, born shortly before he left home in order
to seek awakening.
Siddhartha left home at midnight, without notice,
After watching his newborn in his mothers arms.
Siddhartha named his son Rahula which means fetter
Because he was afraid the child could be a tie that could bind him to his wife
And impede him from finding awakening.
Siddhartha left home at midnight, without notice]
[a shorter note: Siddharthas only son. The name means fetter.
Siddhartha left his newborn fetter in order to seek awakening]