In God Makes the Rivers to Flow; An Anthology of the World’s Sacred Poetry & Prose, Eknath Easwaran includes a selection from Shantideva entitled “The Miracle of Illumination.” I’ve written the following poem-like reflections inspired by this selection.
Going the Distance
As a blind man feels when he finds a pearl
in a dustbin, so am I amazed by the miracle
of Bodhi rising in my consciousness.
It is the nectar of immortality that delivers us from death,
The treasure that lifts us above poverty into
the wealth of giving to life….
It is a feast of joy to which all are invited.
—Shantideva
Let me find that pearl.
Let me drink that nectar.
Give me that treasure.
Guide me to that tree or shelter.
Take me across the bridge.
Let me soak up the light of that cool moon.
Let me bathe in the heat of that sun.
May I churn that butter.
May I join the feast.
It seems impossible,
as impossible as a blind man
finding a pearl in a dustbin.
My sight is insufficient,
for I cannot see the way.
I know only longing, interrupted
by the cares of this world.
A part of me would like to quit
the activities of daily life,
give up working,
take up a begging bowl,
live in a monastery,
dedicate myself to prayer and meditation.
But that too seems impossible.
Where would I go?
And how would I afford my medication?
The path of the lay person
is a path of delays and interruptions.
It is a path of demands that distract
from the goal.
And maybe I am a fool
for choosing my interruptions,
for choosing to purse another goal,
a career of service, a business
helping people transform.
And maybe the only foolishness
is to try to walk another’s path.
Perhaps Bodhi seeks me
as much as I seek it
amidst my everyday distractions.
Perhaps on my path I will milk
a cow and churn some butter.
Perhaps on my path I will
cross a bridge.
I will see the sun and see the moon, perhaps.
There is shade on ever path,
there is shelter.
And the more I seek, the more treasure I find.
I am invited to the feast.
Many roads lead there.
May I go the distance in grateful celebration.
