As he did

Alone
on a river bank
in Gypsum, Colorado
with a body of red flames,
hollow and sensuous,
moist and alive
and burning
the real stuff of the world.

The day runs on
like the river.
Morning is gone.
Afternoon is underway.
Is there something I can do
as he did
to soothe the suffering of beings?

-Jigme
May 1987