The Knight is Shy

In the evening of his life

Tathagat had spoken incessantly for forty years

To thousands who came to end their strife

And to close forever their fears

To those who came from far and wide

To the kings and to the common folk

To the humble and to the ones full of pride

He continuously spoke

He was always surrounded by men so keen

One day, finding him alone Anand took him for a walk

In the garden green

When they began to talk

Anand so asked

“Bhante! You have been trying to help in every way

Your words have been beautiful and vast

And truth you have always tried to convey

But have you said everything and all

Or something still remains for you to expound”

It was the season of fall

And millions of leaves lay fallen all around

Tathagat stooped down to pick leaves a few

Which had turned grey

And as the winds blew

He began to say

“O Anand” looking at the leaves in his hand

“This is all I could say”

Then pointing to the millions scattered on land

“And all that I could not convey”

In silence truth is defined

We need to use our own light

And on our own we need to find

As shy is our knight