“When in danger, all that matters
is there be true sincerity.”
The Buddhist I Ching , Hexagram 29
The sage says
That peace breeds
Carelessness.
For do people
Used to peace,
To peace addicted,
Know of dangers
That teem in peace?
So many egregious evils
Are errors repeated,
Endlessly dragged
Along with us
From the unlearned
Past that hasn’t found
Its peace true yet.
But do men to war
Addicted care
About peace?
Or do they know
Or care about
How to discern
Real peace
And peace
Of carelessness?
For what is man
But a set of grooves
With confined truth
Overlaid with
Deep-pressed ruts
Made of errors, ills,
Compulsively claimed
To be what one is,
The very self as code
And one’s own life?
But if there’s sincerity,
Then clarity and love
Would get one through.
And so, both war and peace
Try to goad mankind to wisdom
Like obstinate, defiant mules,
Ever trying to be way too wise
Without being sincere
And if ever sincere
Then only by mistake
Or without meaning to be such.
Although insincerity
Can never lead
Anyone to wisdom.
And neither can there ever be
Any true peace without truth
Or without our truthfulness
Or without our due attention to
Both to the truth and our errors,
Or without honesty in hearts
For any insincere
And, therefore, untrue peace
Can never be anything
But a never-ending war’s
Deferment or extension.
How could we ever
Win ourselves wisdom
If not by practicing truthfulness?
For sincere means truthfulness.
And without truthfulness
How could we ever hope to rise
To the presence of the soul?
