Saturday, 3 March 2012

My everyday dawn song

When I pick the vathu sudda I pause and meditate
it is the time for pick-leave,
what to keep and what to take
who to take away and who to let be
breaks to break
and so I get
from the nondescript vathu sudda
the contours of our human solitude
the loneliness in crowd
the self-containment
and the perishability
of all things:
Puppham milāyāti yathā idam me
Kāyo tathā yāti vināsa-bhavam.*

*Just as these flowers fade, so too will our bodies be subjected to decay.


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