The major Buddhist poet monks
had a deathbed poem ready,
carefully thought, to be spoken
when the favourite students
had made their way around
the bed of the master leaving.
And then, when the moment
was closing, it was uttered,
the final wisdom. Only then
could they leave the stage,
having played their role
to the end.
We must assume
hagiography playing a role,
messy reality giving way
to how things should have
gone, and pious minds
and hands sculpting reality
to fit the ideal, giving
the masters the end
their fame demanded.
And yet - who are we to
deny it with our doubts?
13.07.2024
Ei kommentteja:
Lähetä kommentti