My poem is about wisdom, lessons, and learning,
Especially for those who find yourself yearning
For something about spiritual to do.
But for those just interested in a story, this is for you too.
Twas a long time ago when this event took place,
In ancient India with Buddha, his teachings and his grace.
Buddha was a spiritual warrior and very wise man,
The secrets of the universe he'd always understand.
Buddha and his disciples traveled to a village one day
So the people of the village could hear what Buddha had to say.
But the people of the village to him were not kind.
They called him sacrilegious, heretical, and blind.
And as they yelled and called him names their fair share,
Buddha just smiled kindly and stood there.
He took all the cruelty and he took all the abuse
But stayed cool as a cucumber, he had nothing to lose.
"Are you done yet?" he asked them as calm as could be,
"If so, we'll go to the next village where people are waiting for me."
The villagers were happy at this and left him alone.
They didn't want him there; they wanted him to go home.
So it was that Buddha and his followers went
To the next village over for some time to spend.
But this village was different; not like the latter.
Here they loved Buddha and his arrival was a big matter.
When Buddha arrived they threw flowers at his feet.
They give him and his disciples treasures and good food to eat.
But Buddha would have none of it; he held up his hand.
This baffled the people, they did not understand.
"We have thrown you a festival and yet you deny.
You must have your reasons but we must ask why?"
"I cannot indulge in such worldly things," was Buddha's reply,
"A man of the simple and humble life am I."
And Buddha, seeing as this village needed not his aid,
Said not a word and left the village that day.
He was happy with himself at the deeds he had.
Listen well for the moral of the story has begun.
At Buddha's actions, his disciples were puzzled too
And there was only one thing they could think to do.
"Why did you accept hatred instead of love, kind master?
The last village was kind but the first was a disaster."
Buddha said, "What do you suppose happened to the good things they brought?
The ones from the second village that I refused without a thought?"
His followers didn't know, they didn't have a chance
Until wise Buddha pointed out his master plan.
"Because we did not take them, they were given to the poor,
Who, because we did not take them, are now poor no more.
The same thing would have happened in the first town,
Except instead of good things, it would have been hatred passed around."
"If I had not allowed the villagers their anger on me to vent,
After we had left, to friends and family the anger would have went.
To sons, daughters, wives, and brothers,
To sisters, fathers, husbands, and mothers."
"But fear not, for bad thoughts from others can only hurt you
If you allow them and that is the truth.
The cruel villagers thought they had me then,
But in fact it is I who has shamed them."
As my tale closes up, it is plain to see
That kindness and strength are the morals of the story
And now my poem ends without further a do.
I hope you enjoyed listening. Thank you.
Especially for those who find yourself yearning
For something about spiritual to do.
But for those just interested in a story, this is for you too.
Twas a long time ago when this event took place,
In ancient India with Buddha, his teachings and his grace.
Buddha was a spiritual warrior and very wise man,
The secrets of the universe he'd always understand.
Buddha and his disciples traveled to a village one day
So the people of the village could hear what Buddha had to say.
But the people of the village to him were not kind.
They called him sacrilegious, heretical, and blind.
And as they yelled and called him names their fair share,
Buddha just smiled kindly and stood there.
He took all the cruelty and he took all the abuse
But stayed cool as a cucumber, he had nothing to lose.
"Are you done yet?" he asked them as calm as could be,
"If so, we'll go to the next village where people are waiting for me."
The villagers were happy at this and left him alone.
They didn't want him there; they wanted him to go home.
So it was that Buddha and his followers went
To the next village over for some time to spend.
But this village was different; not like the latter.
Here they loved Buddha and his arrival was a big matter.
When Buddha arrived they threw flowers at his feet.
They give him and his disciples treasures and good food to eat.
But Buddha would have none of it; he held up his hand.
This baffled the people, they did not understand.
"We have thrown you a festival and yet you deny.
You must have your reasons but we must ask why?"
"I cannot indulge in such worldly things," was Buddha's reply,
"A man of the simple and humble life am I."
And Buddha, seeing as this village needed not his aid,
Said not a word and left the village that day.
He was happy with himself at the deeds he had.
Listen well for the moral of the story has begun.
At Buddha's actions, his disciples were puzzled too
And there was only one thing they could think to do.
"Why did you accept hatred instead of love, kind master?
The last village was kind but the first was a disaster."
Buddha said, "What do you suppose happened to the good things they brought?
The ones from the second village that I refused without a thought?"
His followers didn't know, they didn't have a chance
Until wise Buddha pointed out his master plan.
"Because we did not take them, they were given to the poor,
Who, because we did not take them, are now poor no more.
The same thing would have happened in the first town,
Except instead of good things, it would have been hatred passed around."
"If I had not allowed the villagers their anger on me to vent,
After we had left, to friends and family the anger would have went.
To sons, daughters, wives, and brothers,
To sisters, fathers, husbands, and mothers."
"But fear not, for bad thoughts from others can only hurt you
If you allow them and that is the truth.
The cruel villagers thought they had me then,
But in fact it is I who has shamed them."
As my tale closes up, it is plain to see
That kindness and strength are the morals of the story
And now my poem ends without further a do.
I hope you enjoyed listening. Thank you.
