ETRUSCAN BOAR TALE

Gored by an Etruscan boar,
     while stranded on a foreign shore,
I was no more.

Spirit energy takes delight
    in flight
From fantasy to reality,
    and from temporality to eternity.

Can we blessed by what
     we’ve done,
          not done,
     or wish undone?
How many vices
     can our virtues bear
Before they bury us?

Synchronicity
     we may not know with certainty.
Our train ride here is short,
No round trip through our
     incarnations
To round us out.

Instead, while wound up with life,
    or maybe wounded,
We are rounded up

And fed to our dreams
     who graze on us,
As they gaze right
     past us,

From this life into the next,

Seeking the mystery
     of each soul’s destiny,
Seeing past the missed opportunities
     of each life,
What we wind up with
We always choose.
Let us
            jump
Wisely
     into the mystery
Of each soul’s history.

Gored by an Etruscan boar,
     while stranded on a foreign shore,
I was no more.
 

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from Conceal, Reveal, Anneal - 1998 Poems
by Paul L. Dolinsky
Copyright Paul L. Dolinsky
All Rights Reserved
pdolan@taconic.net
buddhistpoems.com