Sunday December 7
*
A moment of rest
beneath the open sky
in the middle of the afternoon
a glimpse
not so far across the space
to the light of my long day
slight gentle beautiful determined bright one
firmly alone firmly herself
to quietly remind me
that not so far away
comes our warm and bright
future day
and to her then to silently say
to tell of a clay vessel
small and humble
worn with years of use
and millennia beside the threshold
of a portal in crimson rock
Once when the human race was young
upon the earth
And the Sutlej ran in it’s course
in a land cut deep with canyon and valley
as so it does now
it was held in the hands of she
who brought it here
filled with the gift of that mighty stream
and wildflowers perched
in a cleft of that great rocky wall
waved in greeting in the wind
Thirty miles to North and West
from whence the Sutlej comes
not far from Raksas Tal
at the base of Precious Snow mountain
is a place where the rock is red
To the South from great Himalaya
from the North from Gangtise mountains
streams come to the river’s banks
to carve deep canyons as they go
many days they trickle along faintly
but sometimes they roar like thunder
beneath the rains of the monsoon
and there are many
and humans have journeyed
through them all
in most by way of going from here to there
but in one valley
that crosses where Sutlej most is narrow
one can look clear over to the other side
from cliffs of white rocky lime
just before the end of day
to see the homes of an ancient race
from very long ago
From thence at morn
to pass across the bridge
that goes to this quiet place
where the wind is now
but all that’s heard
Just to the east hot springs
fed from molten caldron
within the earth below
and limestone terraces of white and blue
glorious beneath sun’s ray
To the west a canyon city
dwelling after dwelling
to lead to
the place of King and Queen
with cave rooms hewn to perfection
once appointed with wood adorned splendor
huge timbers, carvings of ancient deities, and
all such wondrous things
filled with animated speech, verse
and laughter
pensive thought and robust clamor
now gone but for a trace
And it’s name is the Silver Castle
Ngulkar of Khyunglung
and from it did the Tibet’s first noble Kingdoms come
and far out on the valley's edge
that humble habitation
where we quietly rest and hold
that clay vessel with our two pairs of hands
and look with one vision
of one shared heart
and feel it’s power and wisdom
for in it’s quiet humility
when war machine and lofty edifice
to bring intrigue and pomp
death and strife
long ago to dust were laid
it still yet remains whole
to bring life
And yet even this vessel
not so wondrous
to my straining eyes
than the beauty and uplifted dignity
I see in you
on the day
of the first snowfall
Lotus blossoms rest
upon the window sill
and so we wait
two as one
we our effort
real and lasting
slight gentle
beautiful one
December 2
* courtesy of A Luminous Diamond (Bright) Crystal Show productions.
reference material for the poem is courtesy of the Footprint Tibet handbook by Gyurme Dorje.