Peter Magliocco

The Way


All through my duty tour

I carried a Buddha charm

to speak with now & then,

when it wasn't chiding me

for being stoned, drunk,

or not missing-in-action.


Carrying justice with a gun

it was hard to be a peace-restoring saint,

even being human became impossible

for every soldier in Nam;

yet extraordinary saints

once existed in country,

blending with rain

(in-visibly)

into foliage


& all living things:


call it a law of Buddhism,

insect, animal & human

creating a pacified pulse

for nature's violent

wend through jungle-

artery, a place


where Padmasambhava

the 8th Century Buddhist

rises from shadowy Tibet

to teach ghost soldiers

the true path of salvation,


while from a field jacket pocket

my own Buddha echoes


too bad he ain't

John Wayne with an M-60

& a special effects

halo






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