Silence... Beckoning Silence

The Buddha's eyes are closed. Wonder why. I sit, staring endlessly at the walls that are polished and magnificent. I see the most meticulously etched figures of men and women - intrepid, unflinching. There are galaxies, countless stars, scenes of wars, horses, lions, dragons and angels. There are oceans and waves, the sun and riots of dust. There's fire, swords, showers of flowers, birds flying in the vast skies, men with wineglasses and woods with tombstones. I have never known any work of art and expression like these walls. The more I look at them, the more I look at them disbelievingly.

I slowly shift my gaze upward. Why a dome? There's light cutting through the skylights on the sides of the dome, and there's air flowing in and out, up and down doing a dance of release; I ask myself “Why a dome?” A dome has a broad base that's a circle. Broad base…makes me think of all encompassing, all embracing. Circle… is that not a polygon with infinite edges? How many facets are there to life, to the world, to quality, to the mind, to the universe? Infinite! And wait…circle…sure enough, is that not what the Greeks thought was a perfect geometric shape? The dome gently sprawls upward – as if to lead anyone at the base higher. Where does it all end? At a single point – the crest of the dome - the seat of consciousness, knowledge, perfection, exhilaration.

I look down at the painting that I have just finished – the theme is “glorification”. It's the picture of the human who forgot himself. At the bottom it bears a signature…. Egotist! All of a sudden my eyes fill with self-sarcasm... I take a deep breath, wishing that the molecules that bounce around in bliss would jolt me out of my stupor that is too obstinate to leave when politely asked to.

I look up. Questions are unanswered...

The Buddha's eyes are closed.