Evening Prayers

The dusk a dusty ash.
The bo tree holds its breath
rising high….
a white shadow.

Silence smokes its way
curling circles around
and the wind dare not move
fear of splitting the air…
a high voltage.

The lamps wink on
and the flowers
exotic butterflies
in their arranged trays
as we pass them by
hand to hand.

Even the incense sticks
leave their trails
white threads that tease
our senses… a silver fabric.

The sand is a gold dust.
our feet sink into the ocean bed
making gentle waves
with drops of every gesture of us.

The chanting makes the leaves tremble
and the wind gasps, here and then
with pleasure and bliss…
in awe of the rhythm
the verses bring.

Not a stir.
Not a glance around.
Has the earth forgotten to move
lost in its orbit ?
and the stars
have stopped to twinkle
now staring wide at us ?

Or is it simply me
deep in the arms
of an enchanting lullaby
the vibes ….
being in this moment has brought ?

© Malintha Perera 2014


bo tree


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