Tibet: Farms and Office Spaces

This is a poem I wrote October 14, 2003. Right now I can't come up with anything decent to write about the tsunami tragedy. So, I thought I'd post this poem written upon viewing the film 'Tibet: Cry of the Snow Lion.'



Tibet: Farms and Office Spaces

I've watched ou leading the prayer wheel
Around, itself a tall, wooden tsunami of intention,
Kind of like pine and redwood trees swirling
To the beat unheard yet heard, felt and shown.

Crying at the survival of burnt flesh and
Emotional watergush, we both are spectral,
Dreamlike machinations of a world not tall
With great gods of green and inverted life.

It is the concrete, mere sand and rock, that
Looms greyly, sometimes white-washed,
Above what used to be dirt, that is, earth,
Land, replete with worms, bugs and prayers.

There is blue, there is purple, there is yellow
And green, conjoined with this concrete.
Images of serenity yet to be born and yet
Then remembered, and soon to be torn down.

I want to tell you more about my longing
To know you, come into astral vortices
With senses over and over again enticed
And with much weeping more to be done.

Roots of radishes and potatoes might soothe
The hunger to be heard. Yet speech has been
Blocked--in your heart there is peace, and
In our hearts pain is truth, truth water and food.