I see beauty in palm- sized tomatoes growing afloat in Inle the dusky Lake in Myanmar, I see it in rough hands of the one legged man silhouetted just like his perilous wooden boat against the slow setting sun. I hear thin echoes of beauty hundred years of ruins, temples, stupas standing with pride, the culture of longyi, worn with voluminous delight
I took the train that goes on a loop saw buildings, the market, the houses, plantations a city a country covered by a dark cloud that has yet to acknowledge a genocide the cries
afterwards a hi a ‘mingalaba’ a Burmese lady with a white cream on face which is made from ground bark called ‘thanaka’ she comes to sit by the Dyamayanggi Temple afterwards the scorching sun filled flakes the paste a basket full of snack, she offers a smile
The mirth in chasing sunset in the land of thousand pagodas. A mystical climb a striking landscape. I breathe feel and wish to stay longer. Soak myself in the twilight of moment. In a fleeting time, of closing lids, I drown with the colors of the sky.