Peter Hugo McClure

(Waiheke Island, Auckland, New Zealand)


Poem by Peter Hugo McClure

One can't be a hermit today,
Bills have to be paid without delay.
Just to survive is an Art;
And debts accrue from the start. Philosophers join the homeless
Whom with little success;
Search for the elusive stone
That's more valued than a home The Dharma bums high and low
Effortlessly go with the flow;
Where each encounter is a test
Until they join the very best. Through a myriad of byways
Awaiting what the Master says;
Of the Koan that mystifies
And the Truth that never lies. Gadgets of the modern age
Are a hindrance to the sage.
The fruit that appeals to me
Is found on the Bodhi-tree.

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Read poems about / on: success, today, tree, truth, home

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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