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Buddha hands
Chime Lama (Brooklyn College, USA)



old hands
i know

to carve wood
and burn juniper

to illuminate a
Buddha realm
on earth

pulsating with all


I know those old hands. They waved the four-pronged scepter like a long leaf guided by
wind. They rang the ornate metal bell like a crack of lightening. Lying in bed,
I could hear the rumble of your voice, your prayer,
rising to my room and blessing a drowsy child,
who only later stumbled down
to breakfast.

Those hands carved the headboard of your master’s bed.
It was funny to see a man wearing robes in a wood parlour.
You laughed and joked with the other workers,
but their wood shavings looked like twisted blonde ringlets and
yours the curves of wispy clouds.
When it became time to feed the hungry spirits,
you piled juniper on the pyre.
They like the smell,
you told me.

When I made you smash the glass table, or when the china cup hit the wall and shattered,
us silent, hope slipped between our lips like a forsaken ghost.
Those hands pulsated, full of



Chime Lama creates musical, visual and literary arts. She is currently pursuing an MFA in poetry at Brooklyn College. Blending her Tibetan heritage into modern creative writing, she hopes to share new perspectives with others.

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