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How A Yogi Bears the Weight

By Jacob ShermanPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 1 min read
1
How A Yogi Bears the Weight
Photo by aaron boris on Unsplash

Somewhere on Mount Potalaka,

beyond the din of electronica,

I might just find my long-lost forbearance.

Parents point to patience,

the apparent paramount virtue,

and we children heed them rarely,

going on then to unfairly

scold the progeny of our own.

Attention deficit disorder,

or a negligent epithet for the borderline

where our arrogant, ailing acceptance

seems to end?

An undercurrent of irritability

tends us toward such rashness,

bends us over backward, unabashed.

The sparse stipend of clemency

left to us, we must spend

so very carefully.

Avalokiteshvara sought to mend

this rending

of compassion and the human heart.

A brief caesura for breath,

for thought,

ought at least to give us a start

in the right direction.

In such a fight as the deflection

of selfishness and the defense of love,

every second counts.

To pounce upon the knee-jerk

inclination to lash out

when you find all your buttons pushed

may, in an instant,

undermine a mindful lifetime's worth

of kindness.

Blindness of the heart

is our affliction.

Dictionary definition

of interpersonal emotional disaster

is a depiction of a closed-off

individual.

Mere, residual sensitivity

and a dastardly proclivity

to think only of oneself

are all that all-too-often remain

in the wake of prolonged exposure

to inherited traumatic pain.

In the way that a single grain

of sand or mote of dust

may bring a landslide down

upon a hapless, happy homestead,

innocence may be stopped dead

in its tracks

by one sadistic theocrat.

"Sins of the father," and all of that.

Eternally, a master-in-training

keeps in mind

that he knows nothing

of the long, hard roads

that strangers walk.

Rather than judge,

in harshness,

the sour fruit of a twisted tree,

we must tend first to the soil

and let the once-spoiled roots

be free.

Like you,

I'm desperate to put

this type of wisdom into practice,

but the world

looks so undeserving

when it's viewed from a tilted axis.

I rotate,

around and around

all my same old moral failings

without a care

for all the spiteful curses

I'm exhaling.

If we wish to radiate

a light to banish

hate and fear,

we'll have to first learn how

to cease polluting the spiritual atmosphere

for all our peers.

Dissect your own

age-old psychic pain,

and watch that of others

disappear.

social commentaryinspirational
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About the Creator

Jacob Sherman

The desire to read, and perhaps to write, should be cultivated and nurtured with care throughout every stage of life. For my part I will inject what strangeness and truth that I can into our written history. Expect no constants but honesty.

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