But I couldn't kill him

I met the Buddha on the road
and I remembered what they said
but I couldn't kill him
not with him wearing that smile of his
I just stood there slack jawed, and stared
as he gazed serenely back at me
invited me to sit
with a gesture
and a nod
and I obliged him. 
There we sat, cross legged
across from one another
and gazed curiously 
into each other's eyes.
I wonder what he saw in mine.
I know what I saw in his.
I saw a boy
in a grown man's body
with a grown man's wisdom
refined character
and a jovial spirit
laughing silently
and also crying
and also hugging
and also releasing
and also dancing
and also sitting still
all at the same time
how did he do it
I guess that is the impenetrable mystery
he reached out to me, and he held my hand
and he gave it a soft squeeze
gentle, yet firm
my shoulders slumped down
I didn't realize that I had them clenched
something in my chest released
something in my heart shook loose
and came slithering out through my eyes
air gushed in
and then back out again
and I remembered I'm alive
and I felt myself as the child I once was
and as the man I am becoming
and I cried, silently
soft, shuddering sobs
as he held my hand
and smiled at me knowingly
and we stayed that way for hours. 
And then I killed him.
Just like they said.  




...I am not yet ready
to finish this poem.