At Deer Park
the sky glistens,
its own kind of blue
the sun breathes
its warmth all over the valley.
The sky is not specked today
with nylon birds
escaping their city lives.
and the clouds are busy
painting on the blue canvas.
Not Tara Hall but Manjushree
beckons me this time
the smile of one teacher traded for another.
And yet I see her-
Her silence-permits me
To occupy this space-
Renews me with my old friend-
who had laid buried,
Under the pretense of my worldly life.
Now- as I walk in, tentatively
to meet new strangers &
fellow seekers
Manjushree greets me
With a lotus and a sword
And partially closed eyes.
Comments
Post a Comment