Not Just A Vessel Poem by Richmon Rey Jundis

Beneath the willow's gentle boughs he sat,
Confucius, sage of old, his mind a book
Unfolding, not mere transmitter, but
A craftsman shaping thoughts with steady hand.

From Six Classics' well-worn paths he drew
His inspiration, yet not bound by chains
Of yesteryears alone, for in his heart
A distillation brewed, a pure elixir
Of wisdom born from ancient texts, yet new.

With each word spoken, each gesture made,
He wove a tapestry of human thought,
A revelation, clearer than the dawn,
For he, the master, made the abstruse clear.

Not just a teacher, but a living scroll,
His very being an embodiment
Of all he taught, a testament to truth
In action, walking wisdom's path himself.

So, under willow's shade, he sat and taught,
Not merely words, but life's philosophy,
A legacy that echoes through the ages,
A beacon shining bright for all who seek.