A piece of earth
Reflecting the sun’s glow
And orchestrating the tides
Molecules of water
Thinking they are separate
And yet colliding as one
Reflections of energy
Refracting off other objects
And projecting abstractions
Illusions of control
Believing we are sovereign
And yet lost amongst shadows
Matter in motion
Creating serene chaos
And a world desperate to see clearly
Chickens and roosters roam, range free
Stray dogs gallop, go as they please
Fences between homes do not exist, only foliage
Shadows of palms line the road, shady trees
Passerbys find knick-knacks and fruits, smells of frying
A lazy heat suspends people, all life sighing
Everywhere food shared, a generous dosage
Early morning near the coast, rain on the horizon
One flower. Three sticks of incense. Tied together.
One temple. Six orange-clad monks. Recite together.
One gathering. People and stray dogs. Chant together.
One ceremony. Three times around. Circle together.
Scattered on a shrine.
One with everyone. Wise, pure and kind. Wai together.
Celebrated at Wat Sopa, Sing Buri
Makha Bucha Day, Saturday Feb.11, 2017