From my recent series Mountainless Poetry (AKA Plain Poetry)
I've climbed the monkey-sided mountains overlooking Rishikesh; a spill of Rishis in the granite bowl below, each with callous, with incense, with their various beggaries...each sweet-tongued with prasad. I've bent to kiss a broken man; my lips on his toes, his laugh in my ear. Antarayaami statuary all around. Japa mala japa mala japa mala; Namostute. I've tucked my frame under a stories-filled and stories high Hanuman; folded myself into a Room of Song. Chalisa after Chalisa for hundreds of years. The pilgrims and flowers, the ghee candles and Sri Ram Sri Ram Jai Jai Rams. I've sought myself. I've sought the selfless. I've made friends with both. I've come home dusty only to be Lost. I've come home refreshed only to be Lost. The Names, the mantras. The Bhajan, the Ganges. None had Answers for me. Each had answers for me. None had Questions for me. Each had nothing for me. And so I bow. I thank. Each. Every. One. I thank One.
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