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Batya
Poems
May 2019
Passing through
I traveled a distance
To see a great sage
With wealth only seen
In poor men’s dreams
I arrived at a shack
Broken and bare
I knocked and I entered
The old sage was there
his home was a sight
quite humble indeed
nothing extravagant
nothing to see
Where of the wealth?
-I asked, aghast
How can you live
with nothing to give?
Well what about you?
-He countered
Where are your things?
What do you bring?
But i am not from here!
I'm not like you
You see, I'm just passing through
He smiled and whispered
I'm passing through too.
Based on an old wise tale which i often think about. life is just a journey- what is important, and what is weighing us down?
Written by
Batya
25/F
(25/F)
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