The young monks all stood around
In awe of the visiting priest,
Whose wisdom struck them as deeply profound
And rare to say the least.
One monk with a curious endeavor
Wanted to stump the old sage,
Thinking his question far too clever
For even a master his age.
The monk said, “Master, can you please,
Since your departure draws nigh,
Answer with your great expertise:
What happens after we die?”
The young monks all felt dejected
When he said, “I do not know.”
Not hearing the answer they had expected,
They let their bewilderment show.
“B...but...how can you say that?” they stammered.
“Don’t you—a wise teacher—know all?
We demand an answer!” they hammered.
The calmness turned to a squall.
The priest’s love had never decreased
For his students; he’d never misled one:
“Yes, for many years I’ve been a priest,"
He said, “but never a dead one.”
By Bob B (3-27-14)
He said, “but never a dead one.”
By Bob B (3-27-14)
No comments:
Post a Comment