Tuesday, January 19, 2016

something essential

I don't know
if I've got this story
exactly right,
because it didn't happen
to me,
and I heard it
many years ago,
but I am sure
I retained
the essence of it.

My friend Juan,
who I think
was descended from
old Mayan kings,
had disappeared
from society for a while,
by hiding out
down below
those iconic cliffs,
on that beach
in California,
where he met this
Vietnam vet
who lived in a cave
and hunted fish
with a spear launcher
made with an old
bicycle inner tube.

Above them,
atop the cliff,
there was
a Buddhist monastery,
and Juan used to climb up
and pick fruit
from their garden
while they sat there
meditating
among the plants,
and they never
moved or said anything.

And for me,
that image captures
something essential
and beautiful
about life
that is hard to define.


-Jim DuBois
September 2015

1 comment:

Jim DuBois said...

My friend Juan read this, and left a comment about what actually happened. Read about it below this next poem:
Here