The Ballad of Za

Fri, 03 Aug 2018 19:33:24 +0000

So I set out. Am I a lonely man with staff in hand? I reach along paths bleak and meager, The only footprints seen: my own, Though light and eager.

Days wandering, And where the people are, my questions ask About a sage, accounted wise - I find despair – but not my own: My spirits rise.

Her name is Za. And at that name, some look with fearful eyes, And some incomprehension glazed, Or ridicule – but not my own: I am not fazed.

But now my steps are quickening And lightening my gait The air itself is thickening And now the path seems straight.

I did not know what I would find Until I reached the rill, And saw my destination framed Atop a farther hill. The sun was gently westering, A warm breeze caught the air, My footsteps quiet upon the grass, The scent of jasmine there.

A little climb, a little run, A deep breath at the crest. And there, the master's cottage stood, Awaiting its new guest. A sign read, “Welcome. Come on in. There is no need to knock.” And so I entered quietly, And stood – in state of shock!

The Lady Za, yes, she was there, Seated in a wicker chair. She smiled, but I forget the words. What I remember was the air. For it seemed filled with quiet peace, A radiant calm, infectious bliss, A joyful harmony at one. She seemed to say, “Remember this!”

Eventually I spoke – explained My journey?s purpose, what I sought. A meaning and direction ? So many questions that I?d brought.

She listened all the while and nodded, Till at last a silence came. A warming understanding, then Her words burned like a gentle flame.

I will not tell you what to do, Decide yourself, you must. A dominating figurehead Soon crumbles into dust.

Nor will I tell your future. But if you want my thoughts (said she), And know what I would choose to do, Then listen carefully.

There is no god to cling to: No answer to your prayer. No justice in the universe. No afterlife is there.

And yet there's hope aplenty! We humans have control. We can create a heav'n or hell For every living soul.

It's we who can bring justice; It's we alone who must! It's human kindness – that's the key To winning people's trust.

Your imagined future self You ask about. Now ask again, But turn it round, and ask for others: What do you imagine then?

What do you imagine for The bible-basher at your door, The politician you don't like, The teenager who stole your bike, Your mother, brother, sister – more, That person whom you most adore, Their future selves, you see somehow, What do you see for others now?

So many masters past have taught: Treat others As you wish they'd treat you in return. But who are you to know what's best for them? The answer's simple: ask them, and you'll learn!

Treat others as they'd wish themselves, Through want or need, be treated. More precious than the golden rule, Reversed and now completed.

Beyond your own imagined self, You find you have a higher call. How do they see their future selves? Can you find that out at all?

There is no simple answer now. If you subscribe to what I've said Then asking is a lifetime toil: Direction for the years ahead!

But when you serve another's need, Don't do it 'cause I told you so, Nor yet for some religious creed, Or fear of torment far below. And not for pride or vain reward. Remember, as compassion might, Your care and kindness can't be bought, Just do it, then, because it's right!

Thus spoke Za. I rushed to thank her, Asked her if she'd like to state How she saw her future self. She smiled! And this I can relate:

I see myself as your companion And for those who follow this.

Then she rose: to my amazement, Gave my cheek a gentle kiss.

I left her then, before the sun did set Along paths bleak and meager, But never now alone, Just light and eager.

#poem #longpoem #rhyme 2018-03-28

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The Ballad of Za