We landed here at 2am and found a room quite quickly. We were woken by a loud cock crow, the day already hot. The pungent smell of joss-sticks, so soon, was slightly sickly. The best way to describe this place is in terms of striking contrasts; what it is and what it’s not, the overwhelming culture shock, the hustle and the bustle, the vibrancy of colour, shocking pink and saffron, the noise, the poor, an elephant and walls ornately painted, a two-ton truck, a blaring horn, blue fumes (I nearly fainted). The piles of marigolds outside the little temples, the clack of tractor engines, used as generators everytime the power goes off, the way the people stare at us as children crowd around us, the beauty of the gentle Brahman cows, the buzzing flies, the incense, the spices and the cedar wood, an assault upon the senses. And all of this is what we saw before we found our breakfast! (Where a chattering monkey stole my orange). All life is here. Deprived and yet abundant.
incense
Smoke
the dusty dolls of the gods
stand in a line in the temple,
glaring,
their eyes outlines with khol,
shrouded in clouds
overpowering incense
Lost at the Gate
behind the three witches, fine chains
of iron, silver and jade
they twitched and trembled,
they had their own life
while the witches sat, frozen statues in time
what bought them to the depths of this cave?
where did their glowing chains lead?
so deep the gloom. foolishly brave,
i couldn’t see my own dragon
though i felt his breath close to my ear
leaving the cave and my dragon behind
the image of three chains remained
a puzzle left unresolved
i stumbled out, finding the light
i ran across miles and miles of dry land
and sailed a wild sea, to hold the arms of a man
drowned in a shallow watery grave
listen, like a snake the ocean twists and turns
the singing whips of salt and seaweed
slowly swept him away
seven women watched from the sun-blasted shore
speaking in whispers, spinning their threads,
they spoke of barbs stitched into clothes,
powders hidden in boxes, potions and spells,
a dead mans hand beneath the marriage bed
i could smell it, a dark bitter incense
what hope can there be in all this?
I don’t belong here at all, never will
there is no grace in this journey
no safe path for returning
my angels where have you been all this time?
you who left me beside the great gates
is this a lesson or just a mad dream?
return to me now, i need you still.
still, in stillness and light,
banish the battles of endless night
let me follow the silver chain
bringing my dragon to rest at my side
making me whole again
The Dreaming Path 