The Monk
I met a monk the other day,
Who had nothing fancy to display.
A red shawl wrapped round,
He moved gracefully around.
Even in a coldest winter day.
A bowl in his hand but not for begging,
A bag around his shoulder with all his belongings
A pair of wooden shoes with no stockings,
I wonder how he lived through the day.
Filled with curiosity, I felt the need to ask,
Even with nothing you possess,
You look so happy and at peace
DO you really feel what you show, or it’s just a mask?
The monk smiled and looked at my eyes deep,
He said, I want to tell, because the secret is not mine to keep
Give all you have, and of you and you will see
How much you get in return, so much that you cannot foresee.
Peace and happiness come not with belongings,
It does not come when you ho
