PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Once upon a time in an ancient land there was a gentle man who roamed the countryside giving teachings on kindness to whoever would listen, sometimes sitting under a tree until enough people gathered that would cause him to speak, often going for hours and on one momentous juncture had lectured until dawn the next day, then disregarding a standing ovation, rose from lotus pose and walked away. Occasionally an onlooker would have a notion to follow him thinking they wanted to be a disciple. Soon they would grow weary as he walked a swift pace, never stopped to rest, did not eat or drink anything and rarely spoke in privileged circumstances. Presently he was leaving a little village with stragglers in tow, 2 young men, best friends, with a mind to adventure. After about a half-hour of dogtrotting behind him to keep up, they began a heated discussion on the pros & cons of turning back when the road was suddenly filled with thugs, a rogue band of thieves intent on devilment. In an instant the buddha man struck down all 10 men with his staff and kept on walking. It happened so fast the boys were stunned into silence. One minute they were running to keep up with the master, the next they were tripping over dead bodies. They sprinted to catch him, "Master why did you do this?" The mystic stopped abruptly, turned and spoke in a patient tone, "Because they were on their way to your village to rape, pillage and kill all of your family members & neighbors." The youths backed up, looked at each other then turned tail and ran home. The buddha man walked on, "I am no one's master."

Lo and behold when he came to the next village everyone had been slaughtered but for one little girl crying wretchedly in the middle of the road. He approached her without hesitation, looking directly into her eyes. She immediately began to relax then he could see that both her brother & mother had died that day and that her father had disappeared awhile ago. She had never been told what happened to him, though she had retained a few memories, one of sitting on his lap as he stitched a dolly, the very doll that she clutched now. He also saw that she had an auntie who was gone visiting a grandmother in the nearby mountains. The little girl was fearful that she too may be dead. He saw that she was not dead and knew exactly where to find her. He would take the girl there where she would be safe. He took the child's hand without a word and took up walking again. 

Not unbeknownst to the buddha man, a true adherent on pilgrimage had been trailing him for several weeks, keeping a respectful distance, often falling behind when he became hungry and tired. He would have to stop and rest, then hustle to catch up to the buddha man, who taking pity on the pilgrim had slowed his steps considerably.

On this day he was far behind the mystic and the 2 boys that were hounding him. He heard a shout ahead and a cloud of red dust floated up in the stagnant air. The youths, terror on both their faces, ran by him. The pilgrim sped up then came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the mangled corpses in the road. He skirted around the carnage, noting a vulture circling lazily overhead. He entered the village just as the buddha man and little girl were leaving. Doing a quick check of the homes looking for survivors and also whatever supplies he could stuff into his bag, he took 3 bowls, a few spoons and a cooking pot, uttering prayers for the deceased as he rifled through their things. In the last hut he entered there was a little blond boy crouched in a corner with his hands over his ears and his eyes scrunched tightly closed. There was also a bag of rice nearly as big as the child. He grabbed them both up and ran to catch the buddha man who was moving quite slowly to adjust his pace to the little girl. The foursome walked on silently, the pilgrim taking charge of the children when they needed to stop, the yogi going off alone until everyone was ready to walk again. It took a bit longer, a night and a day, but they arrived safely to find the auntie exactly where she was supposed to be. She & the grandmother had not heard of the massacre. The pilgrim explained what he knew of what he had seen. None of them noticed the buddha man had walked away. He saw that the pilgrim and the auntie were already falling in love. And together with the grandmother and the two young children they would all live happily in the safe haven of the mountaintop retreat.