Marble floors surround the Bo tree,
Bird calls, deep shade and fluttering leaves.
Was I ever anywhere else?
Dusk falling, buffaloes wandered home
feed from large bowls fronting the houses.
Old ashram doors open over a river of sand.
Smoke stacks above brickwork fires
belch in the night,
old clay to new homes,
empty time moving.
Paradakshina –
slowly pacing footfall on marble
soft swish of passing robes around the square
mandala of the lamp-lit temple grounds
one side, citywards, noisy, the other not.
Samsara and Nirvana
come up and fade away
as round and round I go.
Deep in the ancient cell below massive stones
candles weave shadows where the still image glows
in the bright silence- no one moves.