The enlightened one and a disciple walked down a mountain road <br />to sit at the foot of the cascading waters <br />that were famous in that province. <br />And it was here at this waterfall that he understood <br />For the first time the poured-outness of God <br />Into the world of nature, how divinity infuses itself <br />In the commonest things, the splash of a trout <br />Or an insect's buzz in the hollow of one's ear. <br />And when his meditation was complete. <br />The two climbed back up the mountainside, <br />Where a park ranger was issuing them a citation. <br />What is the matter, officer? he asked. <br />You park registration is good for sixty minutes <br />But you have been here for almost an hour and a half. <br />I see, said the compassionate Buddha. But you know, <br />We were praying by the waterfall and lost all sense of time. <br />That may very well be, the ranger said, but it's not honest <br />To pay for sixty minutes, then try to get away with ninety. <br />I assure you, officer, I had no intention of deceiving. <br />But as you can see, I am but an old monk, <br />And these legs are not so fast at climbing steep hills <br />As my young companion's. <br />Then you should have paid for three hours, said the ranger. <br />Perhaps you should put a meter on the waterfall, <br />So people can deposit their money directly, said the disciple, <br />Who was red-faced with irritation. <br />Peace, my son, said Govinda. Indulging in sarcasm <br />Solves no problem, and creates many. <br />Besides, this good man is merely doing his job. <br />Write him a check then for the full amount, <br />But mark on the memo line: <br />'A tax on illumination.'<br /><br />Mike Finley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/govinda-and-the-park-policeman/
