He stood
in that one place
in the
forest, on one leg.
Wild pigs
foraged his shadow.
He stood,
gown as white
as the
chunam of palace walls,
like a
painting of the women
who
danced for the courtiers,
struck in
a pose of the nautch.
As he
stood in that place
in a
clearing by a brook
and saw
slender branches
bend
beneath the kingfisher,
the child
stilled his chest
until a
breath spanned a day.
Through
the cramp,
he saw
the feeding doe start
as hoopoe
dipped curved beaks.
As infant
bones set,
he saw
the giant Chinar tree
trap snow
in outstretched arms.
Through
splayed toes green shoots
spread,
embracing, winding
tethering
- he soared in the wake
of the
crows who followed
bears for
pickings, saw a beetle grasp its prey,
a tiger
groom her young, finite forest on finite land.
Saw the
world cupped in the palm of Krsna,
saw his
own heart, and looked eye to eye with God.
And the
child knew that he was blessed,
for if he
followed this austerity
with
celibacy, piety,
equanimity
and charity, he might
perhaps,
atone past-life sin.
And as
the child was carried from the forest
he tried
not to remember the despair
he had
witnessed when he looked
No comments:
Post a Comment