Shadows and Booms; (Jan. 26, 2010)
Jotted down words; erased many.
Kept words reminding me
Of shadows, reflections, music,
And images glowing in the lights
In humility, simplicity, and candor
I receive the “Torma”
This loaf of bread left in Tibet
On distant roads
For passing pilgrims to feed on.
Never mind that birds get first serving.
Amid the vacarms of the battle,
Everything froze: warriors and horses.
Frozen words, in mid air, melted.
Like cannon ball echoes,
Words reverberated in living booms.
Note: Borrowed ideas from Rabelais and Mounir Abu Debs.
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