on first seeing the Taj Mahal

Icy Christmas moon

frigid morning

green parrots huddling

inside frozen ancient archways

patient for

the hint of sunlight.

Then, hesitantly

 emerging in its glory

through rings of prism dew,

the curtains of December's sun 

unveil the unequaled structure of centuries:

one man’s testament 

a woman’s vision 

of timeless love.

And those who pass this treasure

who pause to wonder

if only a moment,

sense a love supreme:

this resting place

this marbled temple of life

this phosphorescent memorial of prayer:

an immaculate dream realized 

twenty-two years without rest.

Across countless frozen winds

blowing down from Rajasthan,

swirling with vestal kisses from Mumtaz

as Prince Shahjahan’s hair silvered

after two decades without her light,

his masterpiece of love

could then and forever

embrace the world.

Agra, India

12/26/04