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sally-a-bayanPoems
(of Angkor Wat) Two years after, i still think of that forest, where an old temple stands... most structures are carved with intricate designs and images...architecture was influenced by their Khmer culture... posts, frames and doors are stilled, statues are tight-lipped, like frozen witnesses...drowning in the voices and noises of flocks of tourists, reminding me of the noise and confusion of my daily existence....in my own world.. i went up and down many stairs, went through doors within doors, i lost count, while catching   my breath, wondered why there were just door frames............silent walls, old posts, and old trees gave a cold feel of a distant past......yet, in my mind, an aura of magic and mystery hovered upon the entire temple...as if ghosts of wisdom, and lots of stories lay dormant, imprisoned......within the structures... two summers and monsoon seasons passed, my thoughts on Angkor Wat, haunt me still, and bring back my thoughts on those doors; some doors on our paths are closed shut, some are ajar...some open easily, but are ignored, or feared...some, close too soon, before we make our first step to enter... some stay open, yet, we become complacent, some, have no closures or finality...leaves one in limbo.... how will we know if it's the last one for us? how many doors more...for you? for me? does death give an end to life's entrances? ........or, is it just a beginning? Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 2017
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC
THE DOORS
(of Angkor Wat) Two years after, i still think of that forest, where an old temple stands... most structures are carved with intricate designs and images...architecture was influenced by their Khmer culture... posts, frames and doors are stilled, statues are tight-lipped, like frozen witnesses...drowning in the voices and noises of flocks of tourists, reminding me of the noise and confusion of my daily existence....in my own world.. i went up and down many stairs, went through doors within doors, i lost count, while catching   my breath, wondered why there were just door frames............silent walls, old posts, and old trees gave a cold feel of a distant past......yet, in my mind, an aura of magic and mystery hovered upon the entire temple...as if ghosts of wisdom, and lots of stories lay dormant, imprisoned......within the structures... two summers and monsoon seasons passed, my thoughts on Angkor Wat, haunt me still, and bring back my thoughts on those doors; some doors on our paths are closed shut, some are ajar...some open easily, but are ignored, or feared...some, close too soon, before we make our first step to enter... some stay open, yet, we become complacent, some, have no closures or finality...leaves one in limbo.... how will we know if it's the last one for us? how many doors more...for you? for me? does death give an end to life's entrances? ........or, is it just a beginning? Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 2017
(Angkor Wat is in Siem Reap, Cambodia)
#ruins#temple#forest#doorsangkorwat
sally-a-bayan
Written by
sally-a-bayan
F/Filipino
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC
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