Turmeric, Ginger, Lemon and honey
Under the monsoon of India
the Garhwali Mountains
shone back in grassy floods.
Rice paddies on a vibrating earth.
All the impossibilities melted
away in the traffic of India.
Rains took all my grey thoughts
and dyed them copper in the bus.
Monocultures of the mind
were strangled by forests near Rishikesh.
An angry monkey chased a motorcycle.
And elephants stayed out of view.
All my thoughts sat on their haunches.
Chairs were unnecessary.
Outside Dheradun
I met a physicist whose hand was Gandhi,
but whose words were like the monsoon.
Geckos chased each other through me
at night.
And in the day,
saturated by sacs of colors
in the markets.
Millions of seeds,
tiny bundles of life.
Along the streets...
Thin, flowing fabric of abounding colors
in infinite rains.
Not far from the Himalayas,
I went into the Ganges and surfaced
with evolution
and something that is not a thought.
the Garhwali Mountains
shone back in grassy floods.
Rice paddies on a vibrating earth.
All the impossibilities melted
away in the traffic of India.
Rains took all my grey thoughts
and dyed them copper in the bus.
Monocultures of the mind
were strangled by forests near Rishikesh.
An angry monkey chased a motorcycle.
And elephants stayed out of view.
All my thoughts sat on their haunches.
Chairs were unnecessary.
Outside Dheradun
I met a physicist whose hand was Gandhi,
but whose words were like the monsoon.
Geckos chased each other through me
at night.
And in the day,
saturated by sacs of colors
in the markets.
Millions of seeds,
tiny bundles of life.
Along the streets...
Thin, flowing fabric of abounding colors
in infinite rains.
Not far from the Himalayas,
I went into the Ganges and surfaced
with evolution
and something that is not a thought.