Kisagotami

A child dead.
And a mad search for a magic seed.

It’s a story as old as dust.

Brave up, my sisters.

The day will come
when you run
from house
to house.

People will meet you at the door,
look you in the eye,
and they won’t let you in.

I’m sorry, they’ll say.
But we can’t help you.

Listen.

When everyone you love is gone,
when everything you have
has been taken away,
you’ll find the Path
waiting
underneath
every rock
on the
road.

These are the words of Kisagotami.

from Matty Weingast’s book: The First Free Women: Poems of the Early Buddhist Nuns