Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal

Brier Buddha [Reincarnation Reconsidered]

Carol Dee Foster


He once walked [among] moments
of silence, contemplating every
gift and every instance of
[peacefulness and hope] in
the life that had been presented to him,
celebrating the cool
                                     roundness
of stones he stepped on
as he crossed streams
his granddaddy had fished for nigh
on eighty years.

                  Standing still in a slow-
moving current, watching
minnows swim around his feet
like he had become part
of the water that
                                 sustained
them, he began to realize that he was
a fragment of a past
[the world rushed to forget],
that everything inside of him was
actually time—a distant
land, a soil the four winds
had blown away in a final attempt
to merge with an uncertain future.

He felt safe in the knowledge
that the stream, like
instances of happiness imbedded
within memories he cherished,
was circular and that it would all
flow past him [once again],
returning and re-remembering
until [all he knew was] the
peacefulness of finding
a pattern to sustain him in the quietness of a
                                   silver stream
where fish gathered to hear his
memories speak to [a gentle breeze].

___

Carol Dee Foster teaches English at Martin Methodist College in Pulaski, Tennessee.

 

© Carol Dee Foster

Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal ISSN 1554-8449, Copyright © 2004-2008