we imagine the long excruciating journey
by cart by horse by ship by foot
trudging in the dust of a caravanserai
the cold dawn and the empty coast
in a sky much younger than ours a reflection a mirage
to find purpose within the desert night and find something to eat
premonition indistinguishable from memory then
from now on each step is cautious and light
the whispering sands the murmuring stones
the grunting stunted trees
because the boy can hear the voices of everything
and all things do cry out to him
and the moon pulses through closed eyelids
bringing its usual pale nightmares outlined in the faintest pink glow
the twisted old devil man why cant he leave me alone..?
stumble ahead into storms on the red sea and on white mountains
snow swirling and slowly whirling now youre hypnotised and lost
at night we camped by the lotus pools and lagoons of some dead sultan
the fruit was delicious and easily plucked from the deserted orchards
but see the ghosts and colour them hungry
plunging into a green river filled with black crocodile
and then dislocated and dreamy in a white graveyard where you stopped and prayed
you heard one of the voices of god so clearly but then maybe it was gone
the clearest heavens remain silent it was wishful thinking
the rain and we understand again
then the woman who took you aside in a kings great hall
and lay with you in sweet chambers of some new sin
then you knew how hard and easy life can be
when the sun rose in the sky the next day for you smiling
you felt pleased to wash it all off in parthian baths
and those who accompany you talking in pali and bengali
and the generosity of the one lord and lord buddha his incarnation
and as we begin to understand the sublimity of spirit
sacred heart of night burning on then in the indian evenings full of swans and flowers
lovely golden youth so blue against the brown water
the riddles of existence hammering and unanswerable in our dimension
the mind is conquered by the heart and the heart by the spirit
the opposite wave of love cancelling out any attack
soothing saintly eyes we imagine them filled with tears
compassion crushing down like a sorrowful gravity
feeling it inch by inch and ounce by ounce and then fathom over fathom
in the fields watching the farmers breaking their backs in long hot summer
and monsoon afternoons in the city in a kitchen
as you sat at a table drinking wine and eating a yellow dhal
with monks and lamas and priests of old gods
and you learnt that all is vibration
and you learnt to yoke yourself to the universe
and you studied the vedas and you practiced devotion
and you chanted in sanskrit and apprehended krsna and radha
and you realised love is the way
the only way
beyond indulgence beyond asceticism beyond intellect beyond power
seeking god in vibrant jungle and outlandish temple
and in the soldiers and in the merchants and in the slaves of kings
in paintings in books in word and always in song
and slowly and painstakingly
you became a rishi, a yogi and a great magician
and your beautiful face turned towards home
as it became apparent
what you had to do
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