BY JAN HAAG
GIFTS
The dead leave us their gifts.
O Devayani, don't you find
now that your mother is dead
you are kinder, sweeter,
like Mother?
Don't you find, now that James is dead,
you are
more generous, loving toward people,
like James who had infinite
charm?
Don't you find, now that Auntie is dead,
that you long
for the company of a timid
old lady to lead among the flowers
talking
of the leaf's hue and the petal's form?
You have never inherited wealth you say,
but what of the infinite fortune left by
souls
shedding their weight, dissolving into light?
Those
useful human traits, Devayani, shed
because of their weight, take on
your corporeal form,
making it lighter for the rest of the
journey.
The wealth of knowledge left by love,
absorbed by
love, make you lighter
and closer to death,
closer to leaving a
fortune
to those who willingly assume the burden
of learning.
O Devayani, accept the traits
and the learning, grow lighter,
lighter,
eagerly shedding the weight
that binds you to
ignorance,
the corporeal form.
Spend your inherited fortune
lavishly,
spend it on friends, spend it on lovers,
spend it on
family, share it with Shiva,
go lightly into death.
Copyright © 2000 Jan Haag
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail: jhaag@u.washington.edu
Gifts
India
Lung-gom-pas
Nothing
BY JAN HAAG