Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Untouchable

“You can’t touch this!”
Gesar Mukpo running 
in the shrine room…
no one could touch him…
his brother didn’t come close.

Untouchable in Tepoztlan…
on the bottom of the social order…
pariah to many, 
quaint aberration to others,
recognized only by
Burning Man mind.

In London, my teacher, Trungpa,
leaned over to the man lying
in the gutter, 
covered by his own filth.
They spoke briefly, then Trungpa
and his students continued walking.

“What did he say, Rinpoche?”
asked a student.
“He said: ‘You think you’re better
than me, in your fancy clothes, but,
really we’re the same.’”
“What do you think, Rinpoche?”
“That man is enlightened.”

Untouchable.





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