Two months have come to pass since we landed in Nepal, and three of the past four I have been away from Baltimore. There are many things I have seen and done that have become just distant enough in my memory, and the details have fogged over to the point I cannot write about them with confidence in great length. However, in my mind, the vision has remained worth recording. Moments such as the myriad festivals, day trips, small exchanges, landscapes, and dreams are the little things I hold on to when the larger meaning of my existence escapes me. I have composed twelve haikus as a meditation on the empty space of my thoughts this past week as I prepare for a new season of growth.
winter arrives now
oddly like Nepali time
quarter past before
seasonless feeling
scandalous stories abound
walls cannot be told
cold as the snowcaps
sunrise is the clearest moment
no photo captures
before blossoming
graffiti springs on bare wall
tales others know
soon India’s heat
the population expands
at last, modern mall
water thrown from high
some children fall along too
colors of Holi
final winter cold
lama raises bow and arrow
fires our intentions
first full moon of year
crowning the awaken’d point
still police nearby
Losar ends today
Seurat for Tibetans
her boy is carsick
from the darkest day
a cripple beggar reaches
he lights butter lamps
friends lead friends astray
with best intentions for self
a blossom opens
here and abroad
time continues unbroken
everything at once
