Rejoice In Thine Own Richness
A Samurai once went to a Zen Master,
Sad that Zen, not sword claimed much more esteem.
Look, he said, Moon's no scent but silver lustre;
Roses live with thorns, fragrant no less seem.
Comparison's root of great misery--
Why world's goodness fails to enrich its life.
For, plunged in presumed patterns most men see,
Not its poetry, they see only strife.
O haply rejoice in richness your own,
Rose never envies Moon, nor yet Moon rose,
Behind masked faces look at men nigh close,
Hid behind every smile there's muted moan.
If life gets stuck on to preconceived grooves,
Change perspective and look. Life's life if moves.
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Sonnets | 04.12.2017 |
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