Standing People Poem

Does the Tree Refuse the Termite?

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If Rooted in Truth…..What else really matters?
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Does the Tree refuse the termite?

The wind, the rain, the heat, the cold?

One might say it cannot.
Rooted on the spot.

Movable only by an outer force
So strong as to uproot and hurl
Or Fire so hot, wood turns to ash

Is the Stand of the Awake less?

Oh, how I have refused the termite,
the flame, the gale, the flood.
Not wishing to be consumed,
I am consumed by wishing.

Then, Awake, I Stand.
Spindly-legged and wobbly.

Something in me knows
I’ll never sit again.

Once rooted in the Truth of Things,
Can anything else that comes

If I am toppled, may I then know
weightless slumber and the bliss
of holding nothing up?

If I am burned, may I then know
weightless flight and the joy of
assimilation into All?

I find it not in me
To resist again or more

If eaten alive from the inside out,
by hungry thoughts scavenging…
Will I then know the place of no
No-mind, no-thing, no-think?
Once rooted in the Truth of Things
Can anything else that comes

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