I.
I imagine you showed up
for your initiation
hung over and slightly resentful
as the morning light
gilds the edges
of your haphazard beard
and creeps into the
small corners of your
blurry vision. To you,
this is nothing more
than a networking tool,
and a notation on your
court resume.
II.
Hands tied behind your back
you follow the other aspirants
into the Holy Grounds.
The pleasant aftertaste
of last night’s vintage
sours in your mouth
as you utter your sins,
one after the other:
a quartet of casual marriages,
a brace of causal children,
and an internal library filled with
volumes of witty poetry.
Your heart hammers
a staccato beat
against your ribs
as you face the mirror
image of your banal self
clothed in the reptilian aura
of arrogance. You force
a smile, and bow your head
in acceptance - this too is Karma.
III.
There is are questions
that can never be answered,
but I will always wonder
what it must have been
like for you, Li Po,
to reclaim your place
among the Immortals -
to be one with your tao,
and what it was like
to walk through the fire,
burn bright as a star,
and come out of the forge
reborn as a poet.