Grasping

Grasping

A Poem by Bob B

Prancing along a jungle path,

A monkey found a curious box.

Not to investigate the contraption

Would be for him unorthodox.

 

A number of small holes had been drilled

Into the side of the box, so he

Could see inside to satisfy

His boundless curiosity.

 

The box contained a tempting nut.

If he could only reach inside

And pull it out! How marvelous!

If not, he'd be dissatisfied.

 

He put his tiny, searching hand

Through a small hole, grabbed the nut,

And tried to pull it through the hole.

The nut was way too big. "What?"

 

The monkey exclaimed. "It won't fit!"

What was the poor guy to do?

He sat with his hand in the hole for hours,

Frantically trying to pull the nut through.

 

Soon a trapper came strolling by

And found the monkey next to the trap.

He tossed the monkey--along with some others--

Into a bag and tightened a strap.

 

Off he went with his catch for the day,

Happy that he had taken great pains

To make good traps so he could supply

The restaurateur with monkey brains.

 

How much like the monkey are we!

We grasp onto possessions, views,

Our pride, our ego, our sense of self…

And though we suffer, we refuse

 

To let things go--to gently release

That which ultimately constrains us,

Closes our minds, hardens our hearts,

Blinds our eyes, or firmly enchains us.

 

(11-25-17) By Bob B

© 2017 Bob B


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Added on November 25, 2017
Last Updated on November 25, 2017

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