Macchars don’t wear sweaters

The Raft

Posted on: July 16, 2008

I used to float on a raft,

Bathed in the bright sun, washed by the cool winds,

I believed it to be Land, and so they also told me,

But someone told me, it was just a piece of wood,

Afloat on unsteady currents,

Then did I also not feel my balance asunder, my knees tremble,

As the raft would bob on the waves?

So I dived, to look for Land,

Cutting through the waters, confident,

Deeper I went, and deeper,

But where was land?

And I went deeper, darker and murkier the waters became,

Still no land in sight, only a bottomless nothingness,

Which stretched further than eye could see,

Was there any land at all?

And how I longed again for my Raft again where I had once stood,

But how would I ever find my feet again,

Knowing how my piece of wood floated,

On a vast nothingness without bottom.


5 Responses to "The Raft"

Great dost …esp0ecially the line “But how would I ever find my feet again,
Knowing how my piece of wood floated,
On a vast nothingness without bottom.”

completely agree with ana…wonderfully written..and those lines are the real shakes!

H AVING received life, one cannot escape death. Yet though everyone, from the noblest to the lowliest commoner, recognizes this as a fact, not even one person in a thousand or ten thousand truly takes the matter seriously or grieves over it. Suddenly confronted with evidence of the impermanence of life, we may be frightened . Yet we assume that those who have preceded us in death are wretched, and that we who remain alive are superior. Busy with that task yesterday and this affair today, we are helplessly bound by the desires of our worldly nature. Unaware that time passes as quickly as a white colt glimpsed through a crack in the wall, ignorant as sheep being led to the slaughter, held hopeless prisoners by our concern for food and clothing, we fall heedlessly into the snares of fame and profit and in the end make our way back to that familiar village of suffering What person of feeling could fail to grieve at such a state of affairs, or could fail to be moved to sorrow!

Alas! Neither young nor old know
what fate awaits them—such is the way of our saha world. All those who meet are destined to part again—such is the rule in this floating world we live in. Although none of this had just struck me for the first time, [I was appalled at] seeing all those who took early leave of this world in the recent battles, Some of them left little children behind them, while others were forced to abandon their aged parents. How sad their hearts must have been when, though still in the prime of life, they were obliged to set off on their journey to the Yellow Springs. It was painful for those who departed, and painful for those left behind.

The great sage gathers the lumber of the four flavors and eight teachings, planes it by honestly discarding the provisional teachings, cuts and assembles the planks, forming a perfect unity of both right and wrong,and completes the craft by driving home the spikes of the one true teaching . Thus he launches the ship upon the sea of the sufferings of birth and death. Unfurling its sails of the three thousand realms on the mast of the great teaching of the Middle Way, driven by the fair wind of “the true aspect of all phenomena,” the vessel surges ahead, carrying aboard all people .This is the ship in “a ship in which to cross the water.”

Veers somewhat towards abstraction.

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