Enlightenment

To be enlightened by a priest

Makes you holy.

To be enlightened by the buddha

Makes you still

And grateful

You’ll notice more soft quiet things and bow to them often.

But what if you are enlightened by a mountain?

What happens

In this windy place

That always seems to be falling apart,

Sliding and cracking and crumbling.

Would I be allowed to still lay in her damp leaves,

As I did today,

Laughing and rolling,

As if to be flirting,

Would I be wise and lonesome,

The rain coming down?

Would I be still and grateful

And holy?

Would you bow to me then?