Lord Buddha

I offer you the afternoon

Because you have offered it to me

In Brooklyn

Where the afternoon was born

There is a place for you

It can be reached

By broken bicycle

Or bare feet

The sun is still high there

It is still

            Afternoon

That heaven

Waits for me

Even though

I am but a dirty feather

Having suffered

My days in the world

For you, Lord

It will

Open itself

Its mysteries illuminated

All history

            Revealed

If you come

Lord

I will meet you

Waiting

Joyfully

On the corner