(thoughts from a lonely Buddhist temple high in The Himalayas)
Darkness clearing only slowly,
As the sight reaches out further and further
What will it find?
From blackness to grey to colours.
From emptiness to shapes to meaning.
A foreign sight,
Deep inside this temple of the human mind,
Where the candles burn forever
And sight is only a permitted sense.
Few will come here.
How many can see in the dark,
Or just leave with casual interest?
The candles flicker in the draught.
The walls, once invisible, reveal themselves and the artist's hand.
The smoke has hidden the colours
And blackened the beams above.
I sit and look for a moment
At time gone by, or now, or ahead?
Each flame submits its own unassuming glow.
The dark hanging silks, the wooden floor.
The quiet is absorbing,
It compels the mind
And gently turns it inwards....
....A creak of the door,
And a brilliant burst of light.
A moment of blinding whiteness
Rapidly taking form as sky, and clouds and boulders.
Forcing the boundaries of darkness back inside.
The world is real again, and it is time to go.
As I walk out into the sunlight,
And on up the rocky path,
I have taken the candle-light with me.
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