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.



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.