Groomed

Oh, Amitabha!
I believe in you
And you believe in me –
You are sure that I can become a Buddha
When I doubt it myself.
You are willing to take me over
To Sukhavati.
You are willing to take me on
As part of your family.
You will brush out my evils
The way one uses a hard wire brush
On a big dog’s knotty mane.
You will snip out
The great dreadlock of my selfishness.
When you are done, Amitabha,
My spirit will shine a golden glow
And I will curl up to rest,
warm and content in the Pure Land.