December 13, 2009
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The moon watches me with her jealous eye;
The garish glare of the sun surely comes.
My footfalls are loud as the temple drums
I know that I live, I wish to know why.

The lotus petals and the Bhodi tree
Are painted silver in the peaceful morn
A golden ray- and a new day is born.
Upon the earth I sit so peacefully,

Center my self, and search for clarity.
The first sun rays catch my golden robes
Gently warming my face, my long earlobes.
A euphoria, of such rarity!

I have found it, sweet Nirvana, at last;
I am at one with my future and past.

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