A Monk Standing in the Rain

 

After walking 2300 miles for peace,

through heat, storm and blizzard, illness,

injury, and lacerated feet, the monks returned

home to the temple. Bikkhu Pannakara

bowed to the ground before his teacher.

Blossoms were scattered at their feet.
A humble monk, come home,
saying "I hope I made you proud."

May all beings be at peace.

As he spoke, under shelter, about his journey,

rain began to fall.

He said, "I cannot bear to see you standing

in the rain, so I will join you there."

He continued his teaching.

He said, "If you do not leave me,

I will not leave you. That is my vow."

May all beings be at peace.

What does this have to do with anger?
you ask.
Everything.

He crossed a country seething with anger,

hatred, racism, injustice, and terror:
its people fearful, outraged, despairing.
Everywhere, he spoke about

peace, kindness, compassion,
helping us to quiet our minds,
to be present and mindful,
to be kind in our speech.

May all beings be at peace.

I have lived among angry people

much of my life. They taught me

how not to be angry. Because peace

is what I needed most,
and anger is not the way
to get there.

So these monks walking across America

during the worst year I can remember,

igniting hearts along the way

and around the world,
brought me hope I sorely needed,
the body memory of how much kinder
life can be.

May all beings be at peace.

The opposite of anger?

A humble monk, footsore

and exhausted, home again,

standing in the rain

with his followers,

showing us all

another way to be.

The Walk for Peace by nineteen monks crossing America for peace touched so many hearts,  hungry for their message of peace, kindness and compassion. I followed them online and follow them still. They were the best thing to happen, for me,  this year. They walked for us, for the world, and all its beings. 

t.rump's first term was hard on my mental health. When he was re-elected, I knew I had to detach myself, while remaining informed, in order to protect my well-being. That is even harder this time around.

This poem is the opposite of anger, but is what came to me as I contemplated anger, which we have too much of, in a world that longs for peace.

for Mary's prompt at What's Going On : Anger.