Buddha’s guitar

One evening on a train heading towards Berlin,
Scott was given Buddha’s guitar

♫ ♫ ♫

That’s a mighty fine guitar you got there,
said Scott to the man
sitting on the opposite side

Yes, sir
She’s a beauty
And she plays well too
This was Buddha’s guitar

You’re kidding

No, sir

And then the man began to play
The silencing of the mind,
and moment by moment
Scott’s mind grew quieter
and then it was gone

♫ ♫ ♫

The compartment became a Buddha field
and Scott realized his true nature

That’s a great song

Yeah, she’s a pretty one
And this here guitar’s now yours

You’re joking

Nope, she’s all yours
She was given to me a guy named Wilhelm Blume
back in 1963
He came to La Jolla in ’61
with a long board and this guitar,
and for two years he played every night on the beach
One night I went out for a walk
and I came upon him singing what sounded like medicine songs

What kind of medicine is that you’re singing?
I asked him

Moksha medicine,
he replied

And so night after night
I sat on the sand by a fire and listened
to moksha medicine songs
until one night Blume said to me,

God, I’m going back to Germany
and I want you to have this guitar
It belonged to Buddha
and it was given to me by . . .

And he went on and told me about  the Hillbilly
who had given the guitar to him
and the cowboy who had given it to him
and so on until finally he told me
that this guitar was made by Siddhārtha Gautama

Wow
That’s cool
My name’s Scott, by the way

Mine’s Flower
but that’s just my cover
Some people call me God
One more thing:
You gotta promise to never sell or abandon this guitar
When you feel it time for you to part,
give it to someone
who will play it with love

Well thank you, God

Dude, you’re God
I’m God
Who are you thanking?

Old habit

Where you headin’?

Nowhere, man

Right on