I held the key of wisdom
But couldn’t understand
How anything so precious
Could lie there in my hand.
Wasn’t such a treasure
More fitting in the hold
Of hoary-headed sages
Than someone twelve years old?
That there had been an error
Was clear as clear can be,
So, on my thirteenth birthday,
I let go of the key.
In a single instant,
My life became a bane:
All I knew was anguish,
Bitterness and pain.
I loaded up with sorrows
Like cargo on a boat.
It being, though, too heavy,
I couldn’t keep afloat.
And so I started sinking
And lost the will to live,
And joy slipped through my fingers
Like water in a sieve.
And not until I’d suffered
As much as I could stand,
Did I recall the object
I’d once held in my hand.
I sought out the location
Where I had let it fall,
And there I found it lying
With no ado at all.
And that’s the thing with wisdom;
It’s right before your eyes.
Yes, anyone can gather
The key to being wise.
Just recognise your being –
That You inside of “you” –
And you won’t need to suffer
Unless you think you do.
Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash
