My long poem: "The Miracle".
THE MIRACLE
By
John Wallen
PART ONE: Meet Hari Chand
Hari Chand—investigative
journalist
Determined to
illuminate
The terminal decline
of Bharat;
With a special
roving commission
From Anil Patil,
Concerned kshatriya
of Maharashtra
Province: late
professor of dermatology
At Jizan Health
College,
Saudi Arabia,
Now expatriated to
New Zealand;
Living along the
outreaches
Of the Western
world,
In Tauranga,
Dispensing
Ayurvedic remedies
To dissipated
Europeans
O where did it all
go wrong?
When Patanjali’s
sutras
Explained the Vedic
scheme
Siddharta’s wheel
of Dharma
Already ruled
supreme.
While Krishna and
Arjuna
Discussed the pith
of life
The chariots of
ignorance
Disseminated strife.
At Vulture’s Peak,
the Buddha
Revealed the Tantric
path;
But my dear friend,
Anil Patil,
Only makes me laugh!
The Mughals came
The Mughals built;
Shah Jihan, to his
cost
Spent all his wealth
on Mumtaza
Until his realm was
lost.
In latter days he
viewed “the Taj”
Through iron prison
bars
Incarcerated by a
son
Who’d kicked him
in the arse.
Caste, Caste, Caste,
Caste;
Caste deflated
India…
If I can’t touch
you,
And you can’t
touch me,
How happy can we
ever be?
Brahmin priests and
all their rituals,
Friends to the
worldy ones,
Undid India.
Brahma. Vishnu.
Shiva.
Did you ever really
need them?
Brahma created
without their incantations.
Vishnu, Krishna,
Buddha,
Sustained and
enlightened, indifferent to their technical mumbo-jumbo:
Shiva’s dance of
death destroys, regardless of Brahminical threads and pride
Pride destroyed
India.
And yet,
Avalokiteshvara’s
infinite compassion still abounds;
His thousand
arms waiting To rescue all sentient beings from the chains of
their ignorance, Into the Sambhogakaya : The Buddhafield.
Om Mani Padme Hum.
**************
I watched a snake
charmer’s cheap trickeries
Outside Rajghat.
He wanted money.
Is it possible that
one who is able to control
The dancing snake
head
Can be in need of a
few coppers from me?
O dissolute nation
Who had everything
the world systems can provide,
But threw it all
away--
What price must you
pay
For your own
unvirtue?
Hari Chand’s a
secret guy;
You’ll find him in
the bar,
Listening to private
talk
(Not near, nor yet
too far).
Whenever India’s
discussed,
He’s got it on his
mind
That something just
might be picked up
Explaining her
decline.
And as we know, he
works for one
Inextricably bound
To the travails of
Bharat and
The Ganges’
rushing sound.
It’s good to know
that even when
Anil is in his
dreams
Hari Chand is on the
case
And life’s not
what it seems.
PART TWO: Delhi
Musings
I spent some time in
Delhi’s maze
Of beggars,
rickshaws, bikes and shit;
And everywhere I
felt the gaze
Of those who would
abandon it
A mother with her
bundled child,
Tapped upon the
moving glass.
Her eyes roamed,
desperate and wild,
And wouldn’t let
me pass.
I offered up some
gift of notes
And suddenly there
came
A hundred more in
tattered coats
And each one had no
name.
I looked upon their
greedy eyes,
Then waved the
driver on;
And inwardly,
without surprise,
I felt compassion
gone.
***********
The poor and
desolate are our friends,
They teach us
generosity;
Let’s love our
enemies better than our relatives
(As those who hate
us give an opportunity for the practice of patience).
Perhaps one day I
can become wild and homeless myself,
Though without the
unmindfulness of a Delhi street beggar;
No, no, but with the
green tinge of an enlightened Milarepa
Seeing beyond the
limitations of
Nirmanakaya.
**************
Ashkhardan is
beautiful
And, in just five
years,
Volunteers built its
stone temple
In the old way,
fashioned from the imagination and love,
Without steel and
iron.
Krishna
consciousness pervades the essence.
Om Hari Krishna
Om Hari Krishna
Om Om Om
Hari Chand is on the
case. He sees all, but says little. Everything is placed in the
balance.
Dr. Anil will have
his answer.
PART THREE:
Dr. Anil in Motion and Still Life
Dr. Anil gave up all
his glamour
When he travelled to
Jizan.
Nevertheless,
He tried to show the
Jizanis,
Through an innate
pride in his nation,
The glory of the
Vedas:
What they are, had
been, and ever would be.
Even when they
scoffed,
And asked him if the
sacred cow had been his mother,
He persevered,
Watching old movies
about Gods and Avatars
In his pleasing
home,
Surrounded by a
loving family:
His wife, Priyanka,
And blessed daughter
Vishakha
Who, as the
reincarnation of Anil’s maternal grandmother,
Was (somehow) close
to Shiva
Lord of the dance.
Dr. Anil, disciple
of Shankacharya,
Why did you come to
Jizan?
Get away as quick as
you can!
Talking’s just a
barrier
To the enlightenment
of man.
Leave it all to
Hari… Hari Chand.
Hari’s built for
sniffing out the meaning of life,
And the reasons for
strife.
He’s a smooth
operator
And sooner or later
He’ll find out all
you want to know
Of virtue,
knowledge, death and View:
He’ll show you
what to do,
Explain the
transcendental light
Of wisdom, just for
you.
Om Hari Hari Chand.
Take refuge in the
Hari.
PART FOUR:
Vulture’s Peak
Rajgir was the
setting for
The Dharma’s
second spin:
The prajnaparamita
core
Of emptiness within.
Thus have I heard:
at Vulture’s Peak
The Thusly-Gone one
taught
All aspirants who
truly seek
To find a secret
thought.
“Nam m’yoho
renge kyo”:
The blessings
showered down;
The diamond and the
lotus show
The heart within the
crown.
Assembled
Boddhisattvas watched
Shunyata’s face
arise
From Union with
Emptiness
(And in the Buddha’s
eyes).
Oh India you were
not fit
To learn the Tantric
truth
From Uddiyana’s
great pandit
(Nor Krishna’s
guileless youth).
Ganges, Yamuna,
Saraswat:
Sweet Gangetic
plains!
Holy rivers of
Bharat,
Filled by monsoon
rains!
Why did the flowing
Dharma cease?
Why was the Tantra
dumb?
Why did that mighty
soul decrease?
Why didn’t Moksha
come?
Why did the Buddha
at Rajgir
Decide to hide the
truth,
From India and all
the world,
In Nagar serpent
tooth?
Oh why is
Ramakrishna’s faith,
Nandranath’s noble
jewels,
Diluted by some
Pretan wraith
Into a billion
fools?
PART FIVE: Hari
Reports Back to Anil
Slowly,
Anil rebuilds his
life in Tauranga;
And even Vishakha,
And his dear
departed grandmother
(Who now holds a New
Zealand passport),
Is/are content.
Life is good.
Furthermore,
Hari Chand’s
report
According to Hari
Life is a bitch
And we just have to
try and get over it.
Anil (on the whole)
finds himself in concurrence with these noble sentiments.
Om Tat Sat!
© John Wallen
posted by John Wallen at 1:38 AM
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