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Jan 2022
unspared during my travels
prepared by an exchanging world
                              of appearances
i came to this place
at the base of
            a hill of course fell
    a whipped traveller i am
by the vital Spring weather
            i am met
welcomed a night of shelter
led the way by a lace of monks
discreetly
     i am put up
     residence
     bowed into an alcove
     and left be

sun settles gloaming
bleeding out into the night
the night moves on
        steeping
it plays on my solitude

a temple of awakening
freed from need of sleep
plush in the gloom
     of this unfamiliar lodge
pulses lune from the lamp
calling me to something family

          suckle

peculiar flares of incense
my heart at pace
gusted by the lungs
gushed with a nourishing charge
      of remedy

i stand lightly
i take a stroll

    timid

subtle bells
quake little tings
under a propelled circulation
engine utters
quivering the air

Sudden :
it buckles
yawn out from under a gallows
the spaces between the temple walls
drop away
fathomless theatre opens maw
barriers have dissipated

       crumple

i am a mite short of distress
held
in keeping shallow
maintaining a sensible program
i give out breath hesitant...
     and gratefully retrieve

i stand weakly
with care
this is temple
me, a guest
my travellers bed roll remains stowed :
i am a fool to be swallowed

a courtyard
compounds this pressed element of nature
i reached its edge
this building acts the amplifier
a spiritual device of development

bade by hemorrhaging darkness
i wade beyond any lamplight
each step taken when the tide pulls it
mottled perfumes now exhaust in punches
                          (powering from the baying boundaries)
look up
a royalty floods across the night sky
                          cropped by the yard rooves

chants and bells eddy about my ears
pants and tones mediate
worship hounds the clock

i finally do what is best
follow myself back the way

i make up my bed

(retire or
as a shade
i'll find my way between the walls
and flourish)

        chuckle

i regain valued humor
i concentrate
close eyes and slow my heart once again
make peace in this temple of strobe

tomorrow i'll face agricultural land
and the sunlight
i'll continue my selfish travels
bedroll bound to my pack
my pack tight to my back

i shall weep and honour the departed
as i continue
this little i have learned
neth jones
Written by
neth jones  Montreal
(Montreal)   
753
 
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