Wednesday, November 21, 2018

The Boddhisattva of the Spices

Somewhere in this wicked world
Maybe in India, yes, say, India
A man or a woman
Yes, say, a woman
Has opened the back door of her small shop
A tea room.  Maybe a spice stand.  
Yes, say, a spice stand.

She is sitting on a bucket, or a burlap bag of spices
In the instant the eternal dawn
Which is always breaking somewhere
Breaks on her understanding.
In this moment, which is always this moment
In her left hand are her sorrows
In her right hand a cup of steaming  tea
She has become a secret saint.
Her eyes opened wide
For the first time she truly sips her tea.

The urban smells of the alley
And the other shops as they open wide
She smells them truly the way -
No good smells, no bad smells –
a baby would find them.
The rising swell of urban babble streams
She discovers she truly knows
For the first time.

She will never study the Sutras.
They don’t speak of her breasts
And the desperate babies they’ve nursed
Or the secret wounds of the heart.

She has not meditated
She has lived the eternal instant
Feeding and doing, including, including all things
In the sweep of her wide arms
The Bodhisattva of the spice bins
Opens her lips in this final triumphant life
“Ah – hah!”


  1. So vivid. And so true.

    Thank you. This is perfect for Thanksgiving.

  2. Hi Lisabet!

    I know the theme was inheritance, and though I'm stretching it a little, to me this does have something to do with inheritance. The idea among those who believe in reincarnation is that we're all going somewhere with this life. I suspect that there could be secret saints this world, people whose old souls have blossomed and ripened and come into their realization without an austere life or saffron robes but just because it's their time. It's an interesting thought.

  3. This made me think of the "live mindfully" idea. That no matter what your job is, even if it's cleaning floors, be in the moment, and be the best floor cleaner there has ever been. Because only by living in the moment as much as possible, can we ever become who we truly are. I try to do this, but I work too much to have time to meditate in-between hours spent working. Hell, I haven't even been on-line for weeks! I've saved old "Get a Grip" posts going back to October! I mean to read them...someday.

  4. Someday. Hi Fiona! I mean to write them someday!.

    I was intrigued by the idea that there may be saints among us who found their realization by simply living their inate wisdom without starting a religion. I'll bet this happens more than we know.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.