Nepal

I am here to read the Fibonacci series

In an ammonite from the Tethys Sea,

Here to feel continents’ clash and quake,

Tectonic cataclysms’ Saivite play.



Moraine-milk streams from glacial snouts

Over rock-breasts,carving and scouring

With invincible gravity to the Ganges,

Pressed down by geological aeons.



Blue lotus of the Primordial Isle,

Vanished,or invisible, your aroma

Still carries on the Himalayan wind

To delirious climbers, fools for God.



Dawn river ghat: weeping sons

Circumambulate three times father’s corpse

Then set the butter lamp on his face

As the priest’s torch touches the pyre

And the howling sun surges over the peaks,

Painting all bodies with music and ash.



Some dark original shadows me,

The yeti painted on a monastery mural,

An inexplicable footprint in the snow.

Demons glower behind every rock.



High on a stupa,the Buddha’s eyes

Hypnotize the cardinal directions;

Potent as rhododendron honey,

The air teems with hallucinations.



Temple bells call out across the valley

Through craggy clouds,lunatic echoes

Dizzy as terraces’ elephant wrinkles,

Or strung-out prayer flags’ wuthering.