"Planet Vibrations" by Richard Marranca

I'm surrounded by a jigsaw of shapes:

orange roofs with scale-like tiles, stone icing

encasing windows, Mount Meru corncobs, trees,

birds perched on nagas, and a temple - its

walls bereft of color -- fronted by bone-like

scaffolds. Birdsong carries on incense air.

No need to go inside to meditate. Above

temple roofs, sky teases stone with its

mint infinity. I see what's there, not there.

My mouth stays open, awesome, this world

center, no language. Birds and dragons are

the first poets. The monks continue the big

bang chant of the universe. It goes on and

on; I close my eyes, to drift, to hear, not-hear.

Sounds like they're saving the planet, if only

they can. Hour passes. I open my eyes, the

monks are gone, damn twilight. An old couple

--witch brooms in hand--point to the exit.