The Day I Met the Dalai Lama

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The day I met the Dalai Lama,

I don’t remember what the weather was.

But it was in front of our church,

so it wasn’t raining.

I know that at least.

 

The day I met the Dalai Lama,

I don’t remember how old I was.

But she held my hand,

and I knew Love.

I remember that seed.

 

The day I met the Dalai Lama,

He looked like a small nun.

Not the old fashioned kind;

her only distinguishing marks,

were a large cross and a practical navy skirt.

 

The day I met the Dalai Lama,

I might have been mistaken.

I might have met Guanyin,

or the Buddha,

or even Jesus.

 

But, we’ve all seen

the Dalai Lama on TV.

And sometimes,

seeing is believing.

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