The Potential

‘Potential’ The room was large and white The ceiling high And to the right and the left side of the wall Two pictures hung one long and one small Both framing the face of an eastern man Smiling, staring in front of a splayed wooden fan His body draped in orange and green Over one shoulder, only one could be seen. Twelve cushions lay on the floor Of different colours, and sitting, with no more Movement, than a breathing stream Were twelve cross legged students, in meditation dream All facing a higher platform, covered with a cloth of red On which sat a child, on a small satin bed No older than ten and opening his eyes once again He reaches for the bamboo stick light and long And gently strikes the large metal gong Then from coffee brown lips of glistening silk He utters the words, “Is butter, in milk?”