Poems revealed in the silence
Refractions
The veils of reality are thin at Varanasi.
The gods roam the streets,
Transient whisps in the clouds of incense
And the smoke from the burning ghats.
.
Devotion and commerce
Are strands of transcendence,
Woven together as threads
Of the garments of the gods.
.
Nighttime – a river journey
Back toward the throbbing city,
After a visit to
the home of Krishnamurti.
.
The fires and chants
Away to my right,
Barely disturb the
Gentle gurgling of oar strokes.
.
The river is calm
Flat – barely a ripple,
The night sky transcendent with stars,
And I glide through their reflection
As if floating through space itself.
The gods roam the streets,
Transient whisps in the clouds of incense
And the smoke from the burning ghats.
.
Devotion and commerce
Are strands of transcendence,
Woven together as threads
Of the garments of the gods.
.
Nighttime – a river journey
Back toward the throbbing city,
After a visit to
the home of Krishnamurti.
.
The fires and chants
Away to my right,
Barely disturb the
Gentle gurgling of oar strokes.
.
The river is calm
Flat – barely a ripple,
The night sky transcendent with stars,
And I glide through their reflection
As if floating through space itself.
Floating down the Ganges at Varanasi
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