One's Nature*

One's Nature*

A Poem by Bob B

Next to a gentle, gurgling brook,

A monk was sitting when by and by

Something in the crystal clear

Water happened to catch his eye.

 

A scorpion was clutching a blade of grass.

To rescue the creature, the monk reached down

To lift the scorpion out of the water.

Otherwise, the creature would drown.

 

As his hand drew close, the scorpion

Stung him on his little finger.

Withdrawing his hand, he said to himself,

"The little creature will die if I linger."

 

He reached down one more time

And grabbed the little scorpion, when

The tiny animal, feeling threatened,

Stung him on the finger again.

 

He placed the scorpion upon the ground.

Grasping his hand, he tried to restrain

The urge to cry out and wondered what

He could do to relieve the pain.

 

A curious stranger standing nearby

Asked the monk, "Didn't you know

That animal would sting your hand?

You saved the creature even so."

 

"Yes, I did," replied the monk.

"Although there's pain, it's not so grave.

A scorpion's nature is to sting;

But MY nature is to save."

 

-by Bob B (10-17-19)

 

*A Zen anecdote (source unknown) retold here in verse

© 2019 Bob B


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It's simple and makes sense. I think that monk might be in some trouble though.

Posted 4 Years Ago



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Added on October 16, 2019
Last Updated on October 16, 2019