I fell out of the sky in an egg, laughing,
cracked open on a mountain,
and there I was,
The baby-faced, bald-headed bonzes,
afraid of what swung between their legs,
told everyone that I was just Mind,
needing to be tamed and imprisoned,
but in the end I won:
I bedded the maidens,
I beat the monsters
with an iron pole snatched
from the roof of heaven,
I went to the West with Tripitaka
and I could not be fooled
by the blank scrolls the Buddha gave me:
I held out for the real thing.
walking on my hands,
promoted to Bodhisattva
by the stories that people wove for me.
I used that basket to carry myself
all the way to Heaven.