The sweet downward gaze
of the Walking Buddha…
Movement in stillness
and stillness in movement,
undisturbed by the illusion of time.
Chaos abounds.
Even in the temple
the faithful move about frantically
asking favors of the one
whose gaze has turned inward.
Incense sticks burn
And the Buddha remains unscathed.
Standing by the statue
I feel the power of the inward gaze
stirring my own soul,
and I am enveloped by a sensation of yearning.
A moment of truth overwhelms me
and I know in my heart
all treasures lie within!
Wilfredo Benitez
2/26/14
Religion Is Garbage. Why Bother? 
Great poem, Wilfredo–wow! I really imagined and felt what you were describing. Thanks for sharing it!
Thank you for taking a look! It’s great to hear from you!