Idolatry
There was a guy, went for a walk.
He didn’t lollygag or balk,
Nor did he think it very odd,
This walk was what he’d once called, “god.”
He strode along the sidewalk well,
Until into some mud he fell.
And from that strange perspective, prone,
He saw that he was not alone.
The universe, in fact, did shine,
With teachings, his, and yours, and mine.
He learned idolatry’s not a stop,
As he had previously thought.
It’s a stopping off and clinging,
Along the road of concepts zinging.
The concepts had a smell of truth,
Becoming false when made a stopping place, forsooth.
He stood. In need of hourly reminders,
Like all of us who happily put on blinders.
The Bluejay
I spotted him today,
On my usual morning walk.
It turns out he jumped tentatively,
And then again,
Getting past what came before.
His great fear made him almost not try.
But try he did, and he always succeeded.
On his path by the Charles River.
Then he hopped to a tree.
Still jumping when he made the transfer,
Still tentatively, from branch to branch.
Tentatively.
The world is usually trying to teach me,
Or so it seems, because I forget every
Couple minutes. The teaching thus
Is more like a reminder then,
Of something I already knew.
And always tentative.
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