When Santa Claus meets Buddha

 





The Sack and the Silence

On Christmas Eve, beneath the stars,
Santa paused by Buddha’s calm afar.
With a sack of gifts, his jolly cheer,
He called out loud, “What brings you here?”

Buddha smiled, serene and wise,
“I sit to see where true joy lies.
While you bring gifts to grant each plea,
I teach the art of letting be.”

Santa laughed, his belly shook,
“But joy, dear Buddha, is what I cook!
A doll, a bike, a teddy bear,
Their faces light beyond compare!”

Buddha nodded, calm and still,
“But joy tied to things won’t truly fill.
Desires grow, then fade away,
True peace comes when wants decay.”

Santa pondered, stroking his beard,
“Your wisdom’s deep, but isn’t it weird?
Without a wish, without a dream,
Where’s the magic, the festive gleam?”

Buddha chuckled, his voice was light,
“Balance, Santa, is the guiding light.
Give from the heart, not for the show,
And seeds of wisdom will surely grow.”

Santa grinned, his eyes aglow,
“A balance, you say? That I can bestow!
Perhaps a gift of books or thought,
To spark the wisdom joy has sought.”

He hoisted his sack, prepared to go,
“Merry Christmas, Buddha, in the moonlight’s glow!”
Buddha bowed, his smile at peace,
“May all find joy, and suffering cease.”

So off went Santa, his sleigh took flight,
Spreading cheer through the wintry night.
And Buddha sat, beneath the tree,
In perfect calm, eternally free.

 

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