Dispassion
A tall tree in the expanse of universe climbs invisible stairs towards
her destiny, as I stand reclined against her trunk, sure of support. She
stops growing higher; her branches, humble in love, droop down towards
me.
Deep roots -
seek fulfillment
in branching.
I touch the foliage and remove the brown leaves, dried in the process of
transferring their essence to me. Rejuvenated, I walk through the valley
along the side of river. In her dancing innocence, she encourages me to
go forward and onward. Leaving the forest of tress, I reach a plain with
silver mine, and then a golden; and last where are scattered diamonds
all around. I see a fellow walking alone, leaving the mine fields. Why
has he renounced these treasures, and gone still forward?
A fruit drops down -
as a needy
passes beside the tree.
He has renounced, for he has found a higher treasure than diamonds. He
has found love that these treasures are meant to purchase; but one must
exchange the riches; one must part with material wealth for love.
Deeper and deeper does it lead,
beckons the searcher in its
boundless embrace; it's a deal.
The journey is inward. There's no place for valleys and ridges, the sun
and the moon do not shine here; visitors are rare, an occasional bird is
a welcome intruder. Like a flowing river his words murmur a distant
music of mendicants.
His face shines - a nimbus, a halo,
does not raise fear or angst.
I keep a safe distance; the ploy
assures warmth, not the scorch.
--
c s shah
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