Arahant
Many among us want
To be an Arahant
Without quite knowing
Method of seeking
As a caterpillar
A plodding leaf feeler
Who wishes to fly
Like a butterfly
Which it will if it waits
In stillness sedate
Likewise
If we are wise
Attaining purity-peace-bliss
Wherein nothing is amiss
Requires neither doing nor seeking
Only becoming by blossoming
By inwardly turned sentience
In time dissolved patience
Yet to fast forward
We shift attention inwards
Looking at layers of resistance
In childlike innocence
Playfully disassociating
From narrow ego cravings
Marking them as of foreign origin
A far cry from our purity sanguine
And thus standing still
Allowing the divine to do its will
Free of want
We become an Arahant
In stillness
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