Another way

Century after century for thousands of years,
We, human beings, have been cutting one another into pieces.
The history just keeps repeating itself,
Owing to this disease of hatred that is plaguing our hearts.

Holding tight to this carcass and its endless whims as supreme,
Unaware of its pending ending,
A pulsing muscle and a fragile wind,
This whole illusion held by a thread…

This vessel, this temporary boat,
Is like an empty shell floating on the flow
Of our endless confusion.
Battered, adrift, astray.

We human beings are very often sinking our own ship,
For no one else is to be found and blamed for our demise.

Instead of drifting through existence on a river
Of tears of those we’ve harmed through seeking only our own benefits,
Wouldn’t it be better if we were sailing on a stream of virtue,
Our minds well acquainted with what is wholesome?

For one who finds no delight in virtue,
And doesn’t wonder about a seed and its sprout,
No safe shore is to be found,
And will always have misfortune as his horizon.

Whereas for one who delights in benefiting others,
And contemplates a seed and its sprout,
Sentient beings become the source of all happiness,
And will sail with joy on all horizons.

And those of us who, in appearance, have embraced the holy life,
Have laid down weapons and shaved our heads,
But are still piercing others’ hearts with vicious words,
And leaving unattended this poisonous mind of hatred…
Haven’t we only embraced self-deception?

This stream of hatred,
Source of so much misery in the world,
Endlessly perpetuating itself when responding in kind,
I have seen it in my own mind.

I bow down to all of those who, with magnificent boundless hearts,
Have abandoned partiality and hatred, deeply caring for all of us.
Please hear me out and be my witness,
As I myself vow to abandon this lethal poison of hatred.

May I become a beacon for those lost in the ocean of samsara,
An island for weary migrators caught in the strong winds of their karma.
May I become a universal balm for all wounded hearts,
And with a sense of urgency the inspiration for another way of being.

More poems in this series: