elegy
sometimes i wonder if i will ever run out of cool one-word titles, but i don't think that will ever happen. even if it does, i'd probably just start making up words.
he passed 13 years ago now.
passed away? no,
passed to the other hill?
no, not even that.
when the ocean crashes against shore-adjacent boulders,
there is a mist that springs forth, only to be consumed back
into the wave or air. but we do not think that the mist
lived and died. it was water, taken a different form for a moment,
passed back into the water.
such was his passing,
and all passings in truth.
recently,
i came across a photo of him
when he was young and smiled at
how similar he looked even when he had hair and no wrinkles.
but there was that same look, that look which is both soft
and hard as if concealing a force of militant kindness and love.
my mother asked, did he choose to leave house?
did he choose to walk the path?
to which i answered, i think he must have.
she concluded, she must have, all of those like him must have.
in my mother's mind, it must have been to quell some doubt,
some worry, that those who tread past the veil do so not
of their own will. but that is the wrong question to ask.
they did not choose a path, nor did they not choose a path.
they simply kept walking, and one day, found that they were upon
this path, which stretches back generations to the first who happened upon it.
and now, the path has come upon me, and the more i walk it, the more it seems
that i have never strayed from the path in my life.
he has passed, but not because the path came to an end.
the path has no beginning, and no end,
and in truth, we speak of a path because there is none.
the gateless gate. the pathless path. the deed with no doing.
such was his way. such is my way. such is the way of us all,
as we sail from this shore to the next, only through that
water which does not ripple but in our minds.
गते गते पारगते पारसंगते बोधि स्वाहा
गते गते पारगते पारसंगते बोधि स्वाहा
गते गते पारगते पारसंगते बोधि स्वाहा