I had questions on death
I had questions on life
I had questions about
poverty
hatred
and strife
I was told I should visit a
particularly peculiar man
who would set me right
who would give me a plan
I ran
I crossed mountains and oceans
and jungles and lagoons
I swam and I hiked and I trekked.
I finally found him in a field
a nondescript field of Indonesia
He sat cross legged within a hut.
A hut not made of mud
A hut not made of sticks
A hut made of hair.
A hut made of his own hair.
Still connected to his head.
He wore no clothes, but his
beard was so long that he
was able to wrap it about
himself as a shawl.
Interspersed throughout
the hair were baubles and
trinkets, folded notes and
photos. Gifts from those
who had visited him before
It was a sight to behold
I was in awe
I had barely a chance
to utter a syllable when
he opened his eyes
and stared at me
and stared through me
as if in a trance
Then he spoke.
The answering of thousands
of questions had clearly taken
a toll on the man's voice, yet
his lilted rasp was somehow
soothing.
"You have questions, my boy?
You wish to know my secrets?
Do you want to know the key
to life?"
Yes. Yes I did.
He smiled
"Young man, I have sat here
for seventy-eight years, focusing
my entire life and all my
conscious thought on that very
thing. My wife supported me
until her death. My sons still
support me. They visit me
often and make sure I stay
healthy and fed. I have
weathered famine and storms,
sickness and droughts searching
for the answer you seek."
He closed his eyes
"I have forgone a life of
passion and comfort and
instead focused within myself
to find this answer. In all
this time I have only found
one thing to be true."
I waited for the answer
"Life is not meant to be
explained. It is meant to
be experienced. There
is no answer, only more
questions. I swore not
to move from this spot
until I had discovered
what life meant. My
hair and beard are
constant reminders
of my foolishness."
He smiled
"Go and live"
and surely I did
______
Acersecomic - n - One whose hair has never been cut
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
I had questions on death
I had questions on life
I had questions about
poverty
hatred
and strife
I was told I should visit a
particularly peculiar man
who would set me right
who would give me a plan
I ran
I crossed mountains and oceans
and jungles and lagoons
I swam and I hiked and I trekked.
I finally found him in a field
a nondescript field of Indonesia
He sat cross legged within a hut.
A hut not made of mud
A hut not made of sticks
A hut made of hair.
A hut made of his own hair.
Still connected to his head.
He wore no clothes, but his
beard was so long that he
was able to wrap it about
himself as a shawl.
Interspersed throughout
the hair were baubles and
trinkets, folded notes and
photos. Gifts from those
who had visited him before
It was a sight to behold
I was in awe
I had barely a chance
to utter a syllable when
he opened his eyes
and stared at me
and stared through me
as if in a trance
Then he spoke.
The answering of thousands
of questions had clearly taken
a toll on the man's voice, yet
his lilted rasp was somehow
soothing.
"You have questions, my boy?
You wish to know my secrets?
Do you want to know the key
to life?"
Yes. Yes I did.
He smiled
"Young man, I have sat here
for seventy-eight years, focusing
my entire life and all my
conscious thought on that very
thing. My wife supported me
until her death. My sons still
support me. They visit me
often and make sure I stay
healthy and fed. I have
weathered famine and storms,
sickness and droughts searching
for the answer you seek."
He closed his eyes
"I have forgone a life of
passion and comfort and
instead focused within myself
to find this answer. In all
this time I have only found
one thing to be true."
I waited for the answer
"Life is not meant to be
explained. It is meant to
be experienced. There
is no answer, only more
questions. I swore not
to move from this spot
until I had discovered
what life meant. My
hair and beard are
constant reminders
of my foolishness."
He smiled
"Go and live"
and surely I did
______
Acersecomic - n - One whose hair has never been cut
I found this: http://www.theprojecttwins.com/index.php?option=com_content&view;=article&id;=26&Itemid;=15
I hope to write a poem for each of those words. We'll see how far I get.
Request permission to use this poem