Way back in time so long ago, existed a monk, no one would know.
Before city’s, towns, villages or kingdoms, he strove for peace throughout his whole existence.
Dwelling delightfully in a hidden paradise garden, he’d wake to praise the sunrise and beg for heavens pardon.
Nurturing the trees, flower, plants and there leaves, so they’ed nurture him back, and from each other they’d feed.
He lived saintly, by his own intuition and as time went by, grew great with nature’s wisdom.
Only needing the least and most essential, he aged in body, but in mind extra celestial.
Seldom he’d roam out of his paradise home, to neighboring lands curiously venturing on his own.
Other people he’d see, people unknown, he’d bow so kindly, and share secrets unshown.
Secrets most subtle in delicate of gestures, yet so grand in greatness, true treasures without measure.
Showing true faith to the faithless enlightening till weightless.
And after revealing ideas of immeasurable heights, the people asked astonished for more of his wise and insightful advice .
He’d answer simply in the calmest of tone, and leave them clear minded, till smarter they’ve grown.
And after the palaver and the commotion was over, he’d roam back to his garden as lucky as a clover.
He’d do this seldom to share heavens wonders fed to his head, as he praised his garden and the sky, till the day he’d be dead.
Yet this monk existed so long long ago, before the track of time, but know one would know.
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