by Robin Loving

Created on: September 16, 2009   Last Updated: July 12, 2010

If I were to show you

How little I know

This page would be so white

Your glasses would glow.

If I were to tell you

How little I knew

I'd be talking so long

My face would turn blue.

I remember a day

When I knew it all.

If you told me short

I'd tell you tall.

I had the answer

To all of life's woes

I was a 'Grasshopper'

To "All He Who Knows"..

We smoked the great harvest

And tripped through the dales

I passed on the Kool-aid, and

Live to tell the tales...

Of my life with the 'Thin One'

Who swore that salvation

Was to starve the soul of wants

I nearly died of starvation.

I fasted for hours.

'Siddhartha' was thin.

Then looked at this "Buddha"

Thought...what's up with Him?

Surely his secret

Has made HIS life grow

So I sat in his shadow

And felt myself glow.

But enough of this sitting

I need to wander some more...

So off to find a wilderness

Far from this shore..

But hot desert sands

Were too much for my feet.

I couldn't find the fig tree

So had nothing to eat.

Wandering, wandering

Desert and sand

I hate the desert

Give me real land...

Land with a river

And maybe a barge.

I'll take a Ferry please,

Nothing too large.

 

But where was I going?

Oh yes...I knew it all!

You would say short

And I would say tall.

And this "Live for the day" thing

What does that mean?

Give up tomorrow?

O.K., I won't clean.

Guests for the weekend

Will have to get by.

I'll be doing my Yoga

Inhaling the sky.

I'll exhale much slower

If you feed the cat

It's hard to find solace

While staring at that!

Hey...his stare is wiser

Surely HE knows?

I worship my cat now

And so my life goes...

And as life got much smaller

After all I had grown

Smaller seemed wiser

If only I'd known...

I'd have saved on the foot-gear

And all the "I knows!"

For what really matters

And what really grows.

It's not this philosophical scrabbling

Or the Whirly-bird turds

Plugging the toilet...

Of a world made of words.

It's NOT an obvious knowledge

of who's right or wrong.

We are each the composers

Of our own simple song.

If I were to tell you

How little I know

This might have convinced you

I have room to grow.

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