Imagine one man from Utah
living in Nepal and India,
his fifty year savant
mission
recovering sacred Tibetan
texts
from
caves, underground burials,
or gathered from Buddhist
monks
who smuggled them,
walking
across mountains while
seeking refuge.
Imagine seeking
refuge
outside your native land.
Spinning your prayer wheels
under a slightly cooler
sun.
Imagine the sun, how it burns
so steadily and
solid,
without any concern of
target.
Shining on wet rice
fields,
border fences, peace
flags
strewn across an abandoned
land.
Shining even on thick
clouds,
the ones blocking its
light.
Imagine light, your waking hours.
Imagine the string of time
you’ve been given. How are you
meant to nudge the world?
The edges of flags are frayed.
Remember, it takes just one breath
to make the cloth shiver.
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