Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Under the Bodhi tree

I sat with my eyes closed, tired.  I sat under the bodhi tree.  The Jew in the Lotus.  I sat and I listened.  To the sound of the saffron-clad monk chanting prayers next to me.  Picking up little dried fallen berries from the holy tree.

He chanted very deliberately, and I listened with my eyes closed.  Feeling the breeze calm me as it slide softly across my face.

I felt jealousy.  I felt jealous that he took a dried berry that had hit me.  It was my fruit of the tree.

I closed my eyes and listened to the wind.

I tried to think deep, but something told me open your eyes.

I awoke to the beaming face of a shaven-head Chinese monk.  She radiated joy.

And I looked at the faces of all those around me.  And there was so much joy.  So much happiness to be at such a special place.

Another dried fruit of the tree dropped, and I picked it up.  I laughed at myself for coveting a dried fruit from an ancient tree.  And the berry that came to me was beautiful.  The grey fuzz on top was soft with age.

And I thought that the world should be seen with the eyes open.  That we must love the world around us-- for it is so utterly beautiful.

And I found peace.  And I wanted to share it with people I loved.  So I got up and started walking.  And a young monk who I had chatted with came roaring up on his motorcycle.  And I climbed on back and he raced me back to my hotel.

Dj2Tone and Purple laughed when they saw me come roaring in on a motorcycle with a crimson-clad young monk driving.

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