This poem also appears at http://dharmainafrica.blogspot.com/
I have never been to Africa
But I have felt its hot red wind
Like the caress of a mother
Whose wrath has been pinned
By the light of the Buddha
Round a child who has sinned
I have never seen the rise
Of the sun on the veldt
But I’ve been in the desert
Where the land has lost its pelt
And the footfall of prophets
On the sand can still be felt
I have never been abandoned
No I’ve never been alone
Since those days when I would ponder
On the meaning of a stone
Through all these days wherein to wander
With You, my Lord without a throne.
No I’ve never been abandoned
And I’ve felt Your hot red breeze
And I’ve known Your hand upon me
Like a voice that says, “At ease”
Or a guarantee of passage
Through a swarm of angry bees.
No I’ve never been to Africa
Nor sat there in that shade
That You’ve set up in the leeside
Of the temple that they made
Where the master sips his tea
And the debt of sin is paid.
But I send there all my loving
And I send there all my care
As we walk upon the dune ridge
With the One who’s always there
And we set the bees a-sleeping
In the comfort of His hair.
Whatever we do, we should remember one thing:
out of fear we are not going to grow; we will only shrink and die.
Fear is in the service of death.
Mahavira is right. He makes fearlessness the fundamental of a religious person,
and I can understand what he means by fearlessness – that means dropping all armor.
A fearless person has everything that life wants to give to him/her as a gift.
Now there is no barrier: we will be showered with gifts, and whatever we will be doing we will have a strength, a power, a certainty,
a tremendous feeling of authority.