Generation after generation
the souls come to their reward.
Once pristine open spaces fill.
The white clouds darken with debris.
Heat rises from the throngs.
Past solutions become foul
from overcrowding and eternal use.
The restless make exigent demands
to innovate and open another franchise.
Or, facing reality, end and repurpose
the blue globe they all once enjoyed.
Sensing opportunity, the other place
advertises for visitors, promising
a more relaxed situation.

When the last true Lord of Ten Thousand Years reigned,
and my mind was like a bird that flies about from place to place
but is never satisfied and cannot chose one for a nest,
the Buddhist Master Tan crossed from the beautiful island
and came to Fuzhou in Fujian with two companions.

He had rosy cheeks and his words charmed all who met him,
including Duke Wu and other people of high rank. I met him and his
companions. One, older sister, was very pale and beautiful, a white
orchid in her drab clothes. The other, younger sister, was always
busy and anxious, like a pet, to keep the Master happy. His gaze
fell on me, like the falcon high above which sees a hare in the grass.

We spoke, each answering the other's questions as day turned to
night. Beyond the circle of our conversation, his two disciples watched
and listened. Like a bell resonating in the mountains, my words caught
his attention. He told me I had Buddha talent and asked me to become
his apprentice. I, for reasons I felt but could not name, declined his offer.

To show respect, afterwards, I invited them to dinner. My friends were
surprised when he accepted. At an inn, we dined on vegetables, and
I noticed the women eyeing me with curiosity when he would look down.
Two decades have passed now, and I have no regrets. My mind turns
toward where my own younger sister made a life across the western sea.

In the wide world, there are many paths to Buddha.
No one such path is better than any other.