Thursday, April 14, 2022

the bitterness of mustard seeds


"Men!" she says, rolling her eyes
sputters: "Think--even the Buddha causes suffering."

I heed her assembly of outrage
the mustard seeds going off like grenades in the pot

it is true, yes, no one is to blame
Where do you keep scars? Can he see or imagine hers?

See her desire colliding with his wisdom
see her as the collateral damage of this one's own theology 

He might say it's nothing personal--it's true 
perhaps exactly what's missing, in his insistence on moving on  

on nights there is thunder, there is rain
I feel this whole world as an angry woman I do not blame

3 comments:

StephLove said...

I had to look up the story, so that was educational. I always like learning new myths/legends.

Gillian said...

Exquisite!

maya said...

StephLove--a helpful story, but it makes me really sad.
Thank you, Gillian!

even greener

I play the laptop's keyboard like a piano  and also percussion, a beat without pain for the sunlight spreading thin as butter for the dr...