He knows but one truth, shares it openly before
His own eyes. “It’s thoughts,” he says, “that are the enemies
And thoughts that spin the winning remedies
For now, forever and then some furtive moment, the more
The search for leaves of spirit and mantras soaked in peace
The more immersion in the blessings of a sage.
The added “carrot” seems to curry rage
And disappears around the bend to please
The treasuries of teachers, preachers, those who “‘know’ the age”
In which they live. He bought the book, retired to read, and strove
To keep the incense burning on the stove,
His altar-now, or was it time to turn the page?
The longest way to truth is through the mind;
Still from mind to heart the bridge is there to what he wants to find.