A Road Less Travelled ~
Concentric circles drawn in the sand,
Carry us forth to a faraway land.
Where troubled souls find means to refresh
And grandiose dreams are born into flesh.
I speak of Shambhala, known only to few
A kingdom of riches, for those with a clue.
“In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king,”
So I said smiling, presenting a ring.
“One to rule them all,” that movie had said,
Based on a book I also once read.
“Truth can be stranger than most of fiction,
“But know that here, there are no restrictions.”
“In days of old, Shambhala was known,”
“As a place with wise rulers, upon its throne.”
“It now sits empty, blank and bare —
“Waiting upon those of great gentle care.“
We stare into the distance, warmed by light
Observing birds intent on flight.
The moon, the sun, the stars and signs —
Soon began to reveal, the grandest of designs.
Before your eyes, an animal appeared,
A legendary creature among the most feared.
Above its head, the constellation Orion —
Approaching gracefully, came the mighty lion.
As it neared closer, your heart began to pound,
Watching the beast circle around and round.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said, gripping your hand.
“Keep your feet steady, right where they stand.”
The lion stopped and fixed us with its eyes,
A lazy tongue emerged, salivating over it’s prize.
Yet we stood tall, resolute and firm —
Spines straight, and unwilling to squirm.
“What now?” you whispered, clutching my hand
Observing this beast upon the sand.
It was then that something strange occurred;
Improbable, irregular and patently absurd.
“Are we not rulers, queens and kings?”
I asked you with a smile holding up the ring.
“Fear only has power that you’re willing to give,
“Understanding this truth is how we must live.”
At these words, the lion stirred
And upon a tree landed, a curious bird.
The world seemed to have frozen with bated breath —
Anticipating the two of us meeting, an untimely death.
But there was something peculiar that was laid bare;
You could feel it in the wind, the heat and air.
It was a reminder that had grown into a blur;
It was a reminder of the way, we all once were.
The lion came closer with a frightening stare,
Ready to deliver a most terrible nightmare.
It poked at your leg with an inquisitive nose;
And settled at your feet, in yawning repose.
I turned to laugh at your startled reaction,
Wondering if what I said, held any traction.
You looked at me with astonished delight,
Admiring the company of your (handsome) white knight.
In Shambhala we are free to do as we please;
The sins of the past, given forgiveness and reprieve.
But know as I tell you the secrets I possess —
That gratitude and humility will deliver us from excess.
For real power is not wielded with a sword,
Nor shall fame, money or the means to be adored.
Real power is the shedding of our fears,
Knowing it in our hearts, crystal and clear.
For this was a test, in case you didn’t know,
Passed by those who were able to flow.
Rule wasn’t given to the pious or devout —
But rather to the ones who carried few doubts.
fin.
