A STRAND OF HAIR
A majestic boulder perched so high atop a cliff;
Yet it is said it will not fall, itʼs solid, and itʼs stiff.
It appears to be on edge, could roll with a gust of air;
But a hermit used a piece of the Buddhaʼs hair.
It said it would keep it in place, now covered with gold;
This has been passed down for generations and told.
It is a spectacle, a jaw dropping sight to see;
So easy to roll, yet so unmovable it seems to be.
The monks gather around the base of the boulder;
Bent down, arms folded in prayer shoulder to shoulder.
The nine hundred foot cliff holds the Pagodaʼs Shrine;
In Kyaik-tyo, Burma, a place now divine.
It testifies to the faith needed, a mustard seed or grain of sand;
If your dream weighs many tons with one strand of hair it can stand.