Dipena tama-dhamsina

Vesak

in these glittering times
of spectacle and flush
volume and insistence
is competition inscribed,
and yet in the compelling
in finish and provoking
of oohs and aahs
let it be said also
there’s crafting and frill
the meticulous and veneration;
there are fingers here
eye and heart
delight in process and product
and faith every inch of the way
colored by ethics of giving
rejoicing in obtained joys
there’s dana, sila and bhavana
cognizance of eternal verities
and affirmation of the collective
murmured in the timeless chant,
sabbe satta bhavantu sukhitatta.

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha and Ravindra Dharmatilleka]

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All that is solid is made of air

Everything solid is made of air

the breath of the foresaken

the lungs of the unnamed

of granite existence

that did not forbid

an eye for detail

and matching instruments;

everything solid is made of order

the do-this,

the for-this-much pain

and merit tangible

and after-life bliss,

the rajakaariya

dismissed by fervor

the higher kaariya

of faith;

everything solid

came with power

stayed and outlived

the powerful

spoke

and keeps speaking

of air and mind

the metaphysics

history will not record.

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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The Archaeology of Time

So our lives we live
they pass
in and out of light
by clock-hand determination
colours that trick memory,
but in that passing of ghost
and swing of scimitar
at the back of beyond
that’s recollection
in the foregrounding
of happier things
delight somersaults 
from forgettable nights
and uneasy dawn
as mushroom and tree
as the waiting on waters
the catch-n-pass
of tender times. 

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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Ves!

Rites of passage

through passages

of time

marked by feet

so grounded

they had to move

to drumbeat and chime

both wrought 

from custom 

the things that last

and last

things that make pathway

and journey

dance-things

that delight

dance-things 

of singular meditation,

but this, 

for now

is a young boy’s moment

where emotions collapse

into the intangibles

caught in a hand clasp

so elusive

and yet not un-owned. 

[inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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The Art of War

[Angampora]

Fight is fight

when heart is hard

fight is not fight

when must-do things

are divested of passion;

nothing can distract

or detract

gaze is made of focus

movement of economy -

that’s meditation

a transcending 

of kill for joy of killing

the ill-gotten ways

of human history

where desecration is 

name of game;

but this is rehearsal

a dance 

a performance 

of things out of step

with brutality and plunder

and yet

this is how wars have been won

centuries ago and yesterday too,

this is known

though un-acknowledged. 

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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Faith Points

The cling-to
of human frailty
spoken in architectural fiesse
said in chant
laid out in the silences
of meditation
solitude dissolving gathering
the collectivity of prayer
and all the angles
narrate the curvature
of ways of being
believing
and the geometries
of seeking respite.

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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Shadow Dance at Galle Face

 

Pic by Rukshan Abeywansha

Sand-water intersections

watch and move

the tides of days and nights

arrive and depart

in the resolve of revolve,

somersaulting through immemoriality

wading in feet-wet delight

not because it is evening

not because it's sun-dip time,

but earth and water

wind and fire

go through motions

choreographed at the beginnnig

work to the end

of all resolves

where human form

is line in a many-lined history.

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The building materials of birds and beasts

Word twigs and mental notes

love letters and innuendo

discarded lines from forgotten songs

run-on lines and lost punctuation

a bit of sunshine

a moonbeam or two

pages from a favorite book

dog-eared days 

the smile of a stranger

and inevitable misinterpretation

the building blocks

of our sanities 

feathering of certainty

the strengths of fragility:

our lives and our eternities

woven in ignorance 

and the arrogance of knowing --

still pretty

still made for a music score.

[Inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansha]

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