During my visit to Paro, Bhutan...

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Amidst the chants of Buddhist monks,
and the hesitant murmurs of the flowing river,
I heard the silence of GOD..
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Scrawls of an unsteady hand...
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Two lines of attempted poetry...
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Sunbeams reach their destined end
Casting shadows of their death.
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The carpet of grass beckons your feet
Ever willing to be crushed at your whims
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The waves rush to the calling of Mother earth
The heartless rocks deny their reunion
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Man builds structures to reach the sky
The sky evades man's ugly hands.
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Shyness curled her toes,
Love stretched her arms.
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A feather floated to her destiny,
A rock fell to its end.
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Dark clouds in a coterie,
Decided to shroud the moon.
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The blind see the music
The deaf hear the music
It is you and I, who see nor hear
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His voice booms in thunder
His caress felt in breeze
His anger felt in wind's fury
His tears felt in rain drops
He lives.
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Time has no end,
It lives in my memories of you.
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