Darkness every which way,
But not because the streetlamps
Are out in town;
Heedless feet they stray --
Despite the path clearly laid,
The blinds are down;
Shutters closed to the light
Cast the world into shadow
And none can see;
Amitabha rising,
Buddha of Pure Land Bliss,
What fools are we?
Compassion every which way,
Though not of our deserving,
Shines on us;
Takes those feet that stray,
And sets them on that path
Called Joy and Trust;
Shutters are swung open,
Light so dazzling bright floods in,
The shadows flee;
Amitabha rising,
Buddha of Pure Land Bliss,
How blessed are we?
Namo Amitabha!
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