The Unlikely Buddha

The crisp Tyrolean air, a symphony for your lungs, As you step onto the trail, where sunlight warmly sung. Emerald meadows unfurl, a verdant, rippling sea, Dotted with wildflowers, a vibrant tapestry. Buttercups gleam like sunshine, kissed by the morning dew, And gentian's sapphire pools reflect the endless blue. The distant mountains rise, majestic and serene, Their snow-capped peaks a crown, a postcard, pristine. The path winds through the meadow, a ribbon, soft and brown, Crunching gently beneath your feet, with a peaceful, muffled sound. A gentle breeze whispers secrets through the tall blades of grass, Carrying the scent of wildflowers, a sweetness that won't pass. A symphony of birdsong fills the air, a joyful, carefree tune, As butterflies, on painted wings, dance beneath the noonday sun. A marmot pops its head out, a curious, furry face, Then dives back into its burrow, leaving not a trace. You climb a gentle hillock, and the view takes your breath away, The valley ...

 In caverns carved by shadows deep, where hope seems lost, a flickering sleep, We tread on paths where doubt takes hold, a weary heart, a story untold. The walls press close, a smothering night, a suffocating, endless blight. But wait, dear soul, for even here, a tiny spark, a point held clear. A single ember, ember bright, defiance burning in the night. A fragile flame, a whispered song, where whispers turn before too long Into a chorus, soft and low, a gentle breeze begins to blow. The embers catch, the flame takes flight, dispelling darkness with its light. The weight that held us, starts to ease, a newfound strength upon the knees. The walls recede, the tunnel bends, a distant glow, a promise sends. It beckons forth, a guiding star, a path we carve, no matter how far. For even in the deepest night, the human spirit finds its light. From teardrops sown, a blossom grows, resilience blooms where sorrow flows. The cracks and scars, a tapestry, a testament to what we can be. The sca...