Welcome to Abadiania Tales and Travel!
We have some stories for you, from every day life at and around The Casa de Dom Inacio.
Abadiania Tales and Travel also has a lot of ideas for you, about getting to The Casa as independently as you can.
Yeshe Dorje can tell you about that, or provide actual guide of The Casa services.
MR. BRANCO
This is a true story.
Time and place: A December evening, 2010
In Abadiania, Brasil
Wide, Wierd, Wonderful World cycle
The horse's name was Branco,
But all the tourists called him Mr. Ed.
They'd call you that too
If you were an old white horse,
Seen each day on a different block
Trimming slowly the people's lawns.
He never bothered anyone,
And seemed to work part-time
At pulling a man's cart.
Now here's the other hero of our tale,
A guest come for a healing
To that magical mystical place nearby --
A great spiritual hospital
In Branco's Brasillian hometown:
Fred, let's call him, was told
After psychic surgery there
That the spirit entities of the place
Benefactors to us all
Demanded one thing from him only
In the day and night which followed:
"Sleep for 24 hours!"
The volunteer had said to Fred.
And if you can't sleep
A least lie still
With your eyes closed
Alone in your room
No TV, Heaven forbid
No phone calls, no guests.
Now dear Fred was a decent chap
Respectful of others he met
So passing the day and evening then
He did just as he'd been told...
Then came that long night
With no sleep promising to come.
Well maybe just to step out on the lawn
And for a few minutes alone
He could love up that beautiful sky.
Now what entity, Fred would like to know,
Could begrudge him those few minutes
To adore the works of God?
No sooner tempted than done then
In that paceful Abadiania night
With not a soul around.
Ah but what was that noise then
Just behind him where he stood?
Not a footstep exactly, nor the voice
Of any human or a beast
And in his idle curiosity then
Fred just glanced around --
Oh God, Oh no
He'd really done it now!
And a silent apparition
In the form of a white horse
Was there to stare
And catch him at his lapse --
While Fred, brave as the average tourist
Just the moment before
Now ran back to his bed
Promising never to stray again.
So it's of my readers that I must ask
As the poet assigned to this tale
Whether such a horse
On such a night
Could invent this prank alone
Or whether those spirits
The very same ones
Who conspire with poets by day
Might whisper as well
In a horse's ear
In an idiom that suits
Of a tourist strayed abroad,
Who's left now to ponder
For a very long time --
On that horse
And that night
And those spirits
And on what they will
Think of next!
Karma Yeshe Dorje
29 Dec. 2010
Abadiania, Brasil
This is a true story.
Time and place: A December evening, 2010
In Abadiania, Brasil
Wide, Wierd, Wonderful World cycle
The horse's name was Branco,
But all the tourists called him Mr. Ed.
They'd call you that too
If you were an old white horse,
Seen each day on a different block
Trimming slowly the people's lawns.
He never bothered anyone,
And seemed to work part-time
At pulling a man's cart.
Now here's the other hero of our tale,
A guest come for a healing
To that magical mystical place nearby --
A great spiritual hospital
In Branco's Brasillian hometown:
Fred, let's call him, was told
After psychic surgery there
That the spirit entities of the place
Benefactors to us all
Demanded one thing from him only
In the day and night which followed:
"Sleep for 24 hours!"
The volunteer had said to Fred.
And if you can't sleep
A least lie still
With your eyes closed
Alone in your room
No TV, Heaven forbid
No phone calls, no guests.
Now dear Fred was a decent chap
Respectful of others he met
So passing the day and evening then
He did just as he'd been told...
Then came that long night
With no sleep promising to come.
Well maybe just to step out on the lawn
And for a few minutes alone
He could love up that beautiful sky.
Now what entity, Fred would like to know,
Could begrudge him those few minutes
To adore the works of God?
No sooner tempted than done then
In that paceful Abadiania night
With not a soul around.
Ah but what was that noise then
Just behind him where he stood?
Not a footstep exactly, nor the voice
Of any human or a beast
And in his idle curiosity then
Fred just glanced around --
Oh God, Oh no
He'd really done it now!
And a silent apparition
In the form of a white horse
Was there to stare
And catch him at his lapse --
While Fred, brave as the average tourist
Just the moment before
Now ran back to his bed
Promising never to stray again.
So it's of my readers that I must ask
As the poet assigned to this tale
Whether such a horse
On such a night
Could invent this prank alone
Or whether those spirits
The very same ones
Who conspire with poets by day
Might whisper as well
In a horse's ear
In an idiom that suits
Of a tourist strayed abroad,
Who's left now to ponder
For a very long time --
On that horse
And that night
And those spirits
And on what they will
Think of next!
Karma Yeshe Dorje
29 Dec. 2010
Abadiania, Brasil
