deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tests of Virtue
- Tests of Virtue -
On an eastern isle, amidst the humid palm trees,
There, the wanderer prayed before the Buddha.
As he meditated, a quiet came upon the world!
He felt renewed, when he left again for the sea,
To the domains where mystics came to naught…
The fabled land where one may become immortal.
So there: amidst the bamboo forests and willows,
He came to stand, before they who live forever!
A goddess showed him to a tiny peach tree grove.
There: his connection to this realm to finally sever.
He was attired in white robes of the finest dressing…
A single peach, she offered to the man in blessing,
But when he partook of it he could not taste of it.
He was changed into a panda, his mind a beast’s!
All his prayers and meditations: coming to naught.
One cannot prepare, if one’s soul is just not fit…
To embrace eternity: and, come to know peace.
One must be pure unto one’s innermost thought!
So the immortals of that place kept their secret,
As wanderers came and went, but never found…
The means to overcome their final tests of virtue!
Many beasts came to dwell there, their fate met,
In dens and burrows below and above, ground…
Dumb brutes: who never knew what was so true.
In time, the emperor sent men to find the means,
To win the secret of immortality, becoming gods.
But none ever returned, no matter how prepared!
Yet in a quiet monastery, by clear, cool streams…
A woman of pure heart, with a will as iron rods,
Strong yet humble; she was by no desire ensnared.
Rather, out of duty to the emperor, she set forth,
To plead for the secret to be bestowed upon her:
Not for herself, but so that by her actions’ course,
She might find the way to thus please the emperor.
No prayer or meditation did she attempt to enact,
The woman’s deep innocence, whole and intact…
Was enough to carry her to where gods do dwell.
So that the grove of bamboo she did soon espy…
Where lotuses bloom, heated by fires from Hell,
Beneath the lands of the living, in darkened skies:
Even as those lotuses were cooled in placid pool,
In lake and steam, and by divine breath perfected!
Many such wonders, like fate’s loving errant fool,
The woman beheld, and by innocence protected…
She knew naught of the meaning of what she saw.
The animals, she assumed them to be naught else,
But what they appeared as, in that golden dawn…
When she came to partake of more divine wealth.
The black haired goddess with pearl white eyes…
She came to the woman wanderer, not expecting,
To find one who would pass the final sacred tests.
The wanderer was brought to where placidly lies,
A single peach tree, whose fruit could much bring!
Then over the woman wanderer’s small breasts…
Was draped: the silken white raiment, of a seeker.
Over her waist, hips, thighs, and legs it then fell…
So that the gown covered her yet nicely did flatter.
A far off temple rang seven times its’ steeple bell!
To herald the start of the ritual that would reveal,
Whether the wanderer was worthy: divinity to feel.
The goddess gave the peach to the woman to eat,
And the wanderer regarded it, with some distaste.
She felt unworthy, to partake of a fruit so sweet…
And was fearful lest any of that peach go to waste.
By showing no desire for godhood, she did rise…
From the holy grove to become like that goddess,
Who welcomed her as a sister, a strange surprise!
And in that realm she remained, freed of distress…
Whilst the emperor gave up, his quest for divinity,
For, none ever returned, to tell him: of its’ nature.
The wanderer had embraced her immortal destiny,
For her spirit had grown, her soul become mature.
On an eastern isle, amidst the humid palm trees,
There, the wanderer prayed before the Buddha.
As he meditated, a quiet came upon the world!
He felt renewed, when he left again for the sea,
To the domains where mystics came to naught…
The fabled land where one may become immortal.
So there: amidst the bamboo forests and willows,
He came to stand, before they who live forever!
A goddess showed him to a tiny peach tree grove.
There: his connection to this realm to finally sever.
He was attired in white robes of the finest dressing…
A single peach, she offered to the man in blessing,
But when he partook of it he could not taste of it.
He was changed into a panda, his mind a beast’s!
All his prayers and meditations: coming to naught.
One cannot prepare, if one’s soul is just not fit…
To embrace eternity: and, come to know peace.
One must be pure unto one’s innermost thought!
So the immortals of that place kept their secret,
As wanderers came and went, but never found…
The means to overcome their final tests of virtue!
Many beasts came to dwell there, their fate met,
In dens and burrows below and above, ground…
Dumb brutes: who never knew what was so true.
In time, the emperor sent men to find the means,
To win the secret of immortality, becoming gods.
But none ever returned, no matter how prepared!
Yet in a quiet monastery, by clear, cool streams…
A woman of pure heart, with a will as iron rods,
Strong yet humble; she was by no desire ensnared.
Rather, out of duty to the emperor, she set forth,
To plead for the secret to be bestowed upon her:
Not for herself, but so that by her actions’ course,
She might find the way to thus please the emperor.
No prayer or meditation did she attempt to enact,
The woman’s deep innocence, whole and intact…
Was enough to carry her to where gods do dwell.
So that the grove of bamboo she did soon espy…
Where lotuses bloom, heated by fires from Hell,
Beneath the lands of the living, in darkened skies:
Even as those lotuses were cooled in placid pool,
In lake and steam, and by divine breath perfected!
Many such wonders, like fate’s loving errant fool,
The woman beheld, and by innocence protected…
She knew naught of the meaning of what she saw.
The animals, she assumed them to be naught else,
But what they appeared as, in that golden dawn…
When she came to partake of more divine wealth.
The black haired goddess with pearl white eyes…
She came to the woman wanderer, not expecting,
To find one who would pass the final sacred tests.
The wanderer was brought to where placidly lies,
A single peach tree, whose fruit could much bring!
Then over the woman wanderer’s small breasts…
Was draped: the silken white raiment, of a seeker.
Over her waist, hips, thighs, and legs it then fell…
So that the gown covered her yet nicely did flatter.
A far off temple rang seven times its’ steeple bell!
To herald the start of the ritual that would reveal,
Whether the wanderer was worthy: divinity to feel.
The goddess gave the peach to the woman to eat,
And the wanderer regarded it, with some distaste.
She felt unworthy, to partake of a fruit so sweet…
And was fearful lest any of that peach go to waste.
By showing no desire for godhood, she did rise…
From the holy grove to become like that goddess,
Who welcomed her as a sister, a strange surprise!
And in that realm she remained, freed of distress…
Whilst the emperor gave up, his quest for divinity,
For, none ever returned, to tell him: of its’ nature.
The wanderer had embraced her immortal destiny,
For her spirit had grown, her soul become mature.
Published 6th Jan 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 4
reads 830
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
6th Jan 2013 6:21am
In this piece, I recognize parts of myself.
Its different from your other tales, more light hearted, peaceful, profound
Its different from your other tales, more light hearted, peaceful, profound
7th Jan 2013 5:15am
The core of this tale is based upon an ancient legend about a peach that could grant immortality to the one who partakes of it. Such tales have been told since the days of Ancient China, and this variant of it seemed to simply come to me... as if I were remembering it from another life. I could see in my mind's eye that grove, tended by the goddess who guards the peach... and I could see the various animals and beasts that all used to be people. And something of it seemed to ring very true, and it seemed to come to me very, very vividly as I wrote it. Such is how the visionary style of penning poetry sometimes flows, and I am happy to see that this harmonious poem is one you enjoyed reading. It was a delight to pen, and I am happy you found it to be a delight to read! :)
6th Jan 2013 2:43pm
As always dear Jessica the beauty in the stories shine through your writings. Epics.
7th Jan 2013 5:18am
I am pleased you love my writings so, dear Grace! And pleased also to read your lovely comment. :D
