Poem

The Dagme Chu

A river in motion bounds

through hard cut canyon

cream liquid splashing

on russet rock with crimson veins

driven by peculiar currents

shaped by the slanted bottom

on an infinite course

East to West

rapids roar, a snow lion

calling out the Buddha Nature

within all sentient beings,

cast in samsara

reckoning the useless events

of personal history

now annihilated by Gurus thunderbolt staff

under a sky saturated in the deepest blue

the eye is drawn to olive water

churning, undulating, cresting

In silver droplets

Om Siddhartha ride those waves

bobbing through a baked land

of brush and sand

and occlusive boulders

dotted with primary colored prayer flags

ripples releasing fine threads

into sticky atmosphere

riding on a turquoise horse

to Nirvana