The Last Pilgrimage

After three winters
And two thousand miles by foot,
Basho is back home.

By the lonely creek,
Under the banana tree,
He sits down and weeps,

Disillusioned, old.
Tears find paths in deep furrows.
Night frogs are croaking.

His peonies withered,
The starlings’ nest abandoned,
Basho’s eyes downcast.

“What did you expect to find,
That would be different, old fool?
Eternal Light in Nikki?
In the sacred temples, Peace?

“Did you hope for Truth to dawn
At the foot of Mount Fuji?
In Sado, Serenity?
Enlightenment in Gassan?”

Basho strokes his balding head,
Vaguely sensing a presence-
The Enlightened One’s spirit-
His mind merging with Basho’s.

“Like a donkey with carrots
Dangling, barely out of reach,
You kept trudging, believing
That next step would bring you … what?

“Surrender your attachments
To temples and holy shrines.
Search, instead, what’s most precious:
The priceless Pearl deep within.

“Give your soul and feet some rest
On a different pilgrimage:
A wordless, pathless journey
To the Heart within your heart.

“Knowledge, shy as a sparrow,
Is hiding behind your thoughts.
If you chase it, it’s nowhere,
By Grace and stillness it’s yours.

“The truth that will set you free:
You are Eternal Spirit,
United with all of Life,
Your heredity is Love.”

The night is over,
The horizon penciled out,
Promising sunrise.

Morning birds chirping,
Sky turning lavender blue.
Basho´s smile is back.

The Buddha’s voice now fading,
Just a whisper in the wind,
“You shall certainly find It
If you seek with all your heart.”

Basho hesitates,
”Master, I’ll try my best, but…
…I’m only a man”

***

Bees with tiny wings,
Oversized, heavy bodies.
Who taught them to fly?