had lots to talk about, seemed like

he knew it all.

he could quote this, the bible, the quran,

the bhagavad gita, sutras, sartre, kant, locke,

jung, adler, freud, aaron t beck, toffler, and

i was beginning to wonder if all that learning

made him a better man.

you see, there was something very odd about

his behavior, quite out of sync with these notable folks,

teachings, as he left trails, footprints, coarse words,

vulgarity, shamelessness, deceit, spit, venom, lewd behavior,

the list of who he was as a person

was such a stark contrast, and yet he rattled on about

higher learning, spirituality, morals, righteousness,

i almost felt embarrassed to hear.

later on in the day, i met a doer who knew little about

mathematics, or science, geography, history, medicine

but of the joy of being around him,

for his footprints, his actions, his pruning of the weeds,

the way he tended his garden, the way he took criticism,

the way he dealt with failure, the way he stood the trials

of life, with boldness, with humility, with stoicness.

i found myself discarding books, learning,

discarding all that shiny 30 pieces of silver – the better

life. better?

or worse?

a label stuck on a bright porcelain filled with rot,

a dusty cracked vase filled with valuables,

not the earthly kind, you know the vain kind,

this one runs deep, it reaches the roots,

it nourishes, it strengthens, it weeps,

it is joy that needs no shouting to be heard.