Baraka_Guru

A squirrel was upon the sidewalk,
right there in the middle of my path—
it made me stop my bike.

I couldn't take my eyes off of it as I
set my bike onto the grass. Never before
had I seen such a wild creature so close,
so still.

It hadn't moved, so I seized the moment
to catch a closer look—fuelled by youthful
curiosity.

It hadn't yet moved, despite my creeping;
there it lay, right in the middle of my
sunny path. There it lay as though I
gained the element of surprise, having
cleverly set my bike onto the soft grass.

I stood right before the furry creature; it was as
though it were asleep. Why, then, would such a
wild thing sleep there on a sunny afternoon?

So with some sense of of dread, I toed it awake,
go, now, and run off as you are supposed to do!

But instead of a chirp of terror or protest and a
scurrying off to a nearby tree, the squirrel's
entrails spilled forth onto the sidewalk,

and then I was gone!


[First draft]

__________________
Knowing that death is certain and that the time of death is uncertain, what's the most important thing?
—Bhikkhuni Pema Chödrön

Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
—From "Burnt Norton," Four Quartets (1936), T. S. Eliot