The girl who delivered milk
To the temple on the island
Was always late
Dependent as she was
On the whims of the boatman

The priest admonished her one day
Saying
Woman, Chanting the name of our lord
I cross the ocean of life
And you can't cross this puny stream
On time
Chant the name of our lord
Henceforth
And cross the water
And you won't be late

And she did
She chanted the name of our lord
As instructed
And walked on water
And was never late again

One day
The priest saw her
Chanting the name of our lord
And walking away on the water
He couldn't believe his eyes
He followed her
Chanting the name of our lord
And fell into the water

Let us leave him flailing there
And ponder this
What matters is
Not the power of the name of our lord
Nor the instructions of a guru
But the authenticity of the seeker