The Yogi

When I was young they took me to the sea.

My mother saw a blowfish stunned or dying

And with her hand she guided it towards me.

In my head I heard the creature crying.

I wept and pleaded for its swift release.

Reluctantly she let is swim away

For her first born son whom she wished to please.

I learned of sorrow and distress that day

And felt within my soul another's pain.

Once my father soundly scolded me,

"Let nothing suffer by your hand again,

If you kill, kill cleanly and with care to see

That death is quick, no misery prolong."

Thus did I learn the ways of right and wrong.

I went to hear a yogi speak one night

His words mercurial and filled with light,

"It is the nature of life to live on life",

This truth has solaced me for fifty years

Of outer challenges and inner strife

Opened my mind to wisdom and my fears

Dissolved on looking in his godlike eyes.