Solomon in All His Glory, Ignored
“What is worse, every day, and many times in the day, we are enlightened, we are Buddha, a
poet,–but do not know it, and remain an ordinary man.” ~ R. H. Blyth, Preface, Haiku,
Summer-Autumn, Volume 3, p. 644.
A moment opens like a fleeting gate,
A gate that disappears as soon as seen,
And we go plodding on. It will not wait.
A moment opens like a door of green
Outside a temple. It is like a door
Made out of lotus leaves implying flowers.
It promises to yield us briefest more;
No, promises eternity, not hours,
But then is gone. A moment opens like
A window in the palace of a lord
Of wisdom. Then it slams shut with a spike
Of gold to hold it fast. Beyond a chord
Of everlasting yellows, orange, and blue
Was offered. We walked on—did not leap through.