Disciples

When the last true Lord of Ten Thousand Years reigned

and my mind was like a bird that flies about from place to place

but is never satisfied and cannot chose one for a nest

the Buddhist Master Tan crossed from the beautiful island

and came to Fuzhou in Fujian with two companions.

He had rosy cheeks and his words charmed all who met him

including Duke Wu and other people of high rank. I met him and his

companions.  One, older sister, was very pale and beautiful, a white

orchid in her drab clothes.  The other, younger sister, was always

busy and anxious, like a pet, to keep the Master happy.  His gaze

fell on me, like the falcon high above which sees a hare in the grass.

We spoke, each answering the other's questions as day turned to 

night.  Beyond the circle of our conversation, his two disciples watched

and listened.  Like a bell resonating in the mountains, my words caught

his attention.  He told me I had Buddha talent and asked me to become

his apprentice. I, for reasons I felt but could not name, declined his offer.

To show respect, afterwards, I invited them to dinner.  My friends were

surprised when he accepted.  At an inn, we dined on vegetables, and

I noticed the women eyeing me with curiosity when he would look down. 

Two decades have passed now, and I have no regrets.  My mind turns

toward where my own younger sister made a life across the western sea.

In the wide world, there are many paths to Buddha.

No one such path is better than any other.