Wisdom, a Bhutan inpired poem by Misha Lyuve

Jan 8, 2011

Wisdom

Of many men of many days
Just two are subject of this song,
They live their lives in different way,
But let’s not judge who’s right, who’s wrong.
 
            The first one had most stubborn eyes,
           If there’s a mount he came across,
           He had to reach up to its highs
           Regardless rain or fog or frost. 
 
                      And if a sparkle of a fear
                      Hid in a corner of his heart
                      He fought for it to disappear
                      For he and fear lived apart.
 
 The second man had gentle hands,
He’d stare for hours at a rose
And sing her love and magic chants
That at a moonlight he’d compose.
 
           And at the ocean’s yellow sands
           When sun would open sleepy eyes
           He’d greet it with a morning dance
           And watch its beauty slowly rise. 
 
                      If chance brought these two to one place,
                      They wouldn’t catch each other’s sight;
                      One would stroll up with rapid pace,
                      While other’s dreaming in sunlight. 
 
This not-so-accidental miss
Is not a problem whatsoever.
This story has a subtle twist
These two are one man however. 
 
           When first one tests the strength of will
           The second’s heart is pierced by sword;
           When latter sits at river still
           The first one is so deadly bored.
 
                      What’s wisdom? It’s an art of knowing
                      Which rose to love, which mount to climb,
                      Each inner world, expressed and growing,
                      To have its peace, its place, its time.

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