Dedication: I mistook a fig tree for its fruit.
 
Siddhartha sat under the Bodhi tree
but he could not make it grow.
He could not stop the leaves from falling,
he could not tell the fruit to ripen,
nor the birds to cease their singing.
But he sat under the Bodhi tree
and was content –
for he had shelter, food, and song.

Year: 
2015
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