Sunday March 7
*
A glimpse
up out 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
for she I we two
our warm and bright
future day
and to her then to say to tell
of the winged flight
and piercing cry
of the Tra the great falcon
above the great building stones
of temple incomplete
the ropes and buckets left unfilled
scaffold and chisel untouched
on a cold spring afternoon
Those that labored had gone home
to their villages to mourn
For another had died in this place
of danger when again in the midst of
working clamor suddenly could be heard
the horror of the Druk
that hissing roar of
dragon divinity born when the earth
had scarce begun to cool
filled with ancient enmity
for these newcomers
feeble trespassers and in it’s wake
another terrible accident
Standing within his tent
of black yak hair King Songsten Gampo
stared out upon the silent expanse
where the rocks pushed from cold spare earth
like bones indecently buried
and a few wisps of struggling
wild barley tossed this way and that
in the cold mountain wind
Then turning he sat to face the fire
and no more was he then heard
for day after cheerless day
his mind to withdraw to the place of emptiness
from whence all creation comes
to commune with elemental force
until over the slope could be heard
the Tra the falcon like a thunderbolt
dropping from the sky
her feathers ruffling furiously
as the Yarlung river torrent
in the mountain spring
and hissing roar answered piercing cry
fire and poison and teeth met tearing
of talon and rending beak
on and on the struggle waged
as the villagers in Yarlung valley
trembled in awe and glimpsed
in the fascination of mortal fear
And through it all a silent king
held his mind in the place of power
until the battle had been won
the Druk crawled to dark depths of earth
from whence it came millenia before
the falcon rose into the blue
and calm came upon the day
and wildflowers rose above grass newly green
as the work began anew
and the temple of Tradruk was born
another great temple of protection for Tibetans
from harm in this place of snow covered
mountain immensity
A golden roof rests above this place
it was brought here by the fifth Dalai Lama
in a rebuilding one of many
for the Druk returned in time to time
when conditions were ripe in the hearts of humans
through them to wage destruction
to complete his terrible work
In King Langdarma’s time
that persecutor of the sacred
then in modern day in the steady tramp
of the Chinese force
as dynamite and plane strewn bomb
sent the work of centuries
into dusty oblivion
The falcon in reply to return
to soar in the quiet minds of King Songsten Gampo’s
spiritual heirs the buildings to rise once again
in grace upon this place
Look beautiful one
At it's heart
hangs a wondrous Tangka
stretching up before our eyes
to ceiling from floor
strung with 29 thousand pearls
glittering in soft butter lamp light
to inspire us here
and as we look upon Padmapani’s glowing visage
of compassion's wisdom
we hear
faint but distinct
the falcon’s piercing cry
All this not so wonderful
to my straining eyes
as your swift determined beauty
and uplifted patient dignity
this that I see in you
on this cold morn
of our winter of necessity
Lotus blossoms rest
upon the window sill
and so we wait
two as one
we our effort
real and lasting
slight gentle
beautiful one
March 3
* courtesy of A Luminous Diamond (Bright) Crystal Show productions.
reference material for the poem is courtesy of the Footprint Tibet handbook by Gyurme Dorje.