As I traveled the road I met a man.
The man was drunk and no better than me.
He sputtered, “This is how it all began,”
I nodded my head and I did agree,
Though what I agreed on I did not know,
He grinned, walked around me and then bowed,
He had a sunburned mouth and was quite old,
When he finally stopped he wiped his brow,
Said, “This road you’re on is full of fool’s gold.”
I tipped my hat, continued on my way
Searching for my nirvana I must find.
Not giving the drunk even a good day.
Nirvana was lost, always out of reach,
I retraced my steps, my conscience beached.
To experience the state of "nirvana" is a magic carpet ride! That old man was right! Yoga is a cool way to experience the state of "nirvana". Of course, there are other ways............
Thoughtful sonnet that I think many of your readers will relate to. The old man, for me, represents fate, like a warning wisdom which the traveler ignores. Enjoyed this poem.
Another good little slice of psychology. I like to see what a beached conscience is like. A bleached or whitewashed conscience might even be better.
To find nirvana, just put it in the browser and search… You will probably come up with a few rather mundane rock 'n' roll songs and the story of a dead head or two.
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love ya!
Jane
To find nirvana, just put it in the browser and search… You will probably come up with a few rather mundane rock 'n' roll songs and the story of a dead head or two.
Hope you get there.
Ron
Powerful.
Love how the story builds and then - kerpow - end with a punch.
Sandie :)