A Door

A dark Burma teak door opens
Silently on its brass hinges,
Leaving its archway brooding
With many thoughts intruding.

It reveals an empty space
Of shadowed light traceries,
Where time’s phantoms find
Ancient knowledge confined.

The door, in its quartefoil hides
A tradition rich in grain and thought,
Giving a glimpse of mysteries sublime
Opening silently the door of the mind.

April 1984, Delhi

Japanese Hedge Bindweed

Just for a brief moment
You can imagine
The delicate innocence
Of primordial creation.

Just for a brief moment
You stand witness to
The past emerging
In the present.

Just for a brief moment
You see enigmatic creation
Emerging as eternity
In innocent transience.


July 2007, Tokyo

Reality’s Barometer

Sit in a barge
Sailing on a moonlit night
On the shimmer of the river,
Then wakeup
With a stiff shoulder and
A recriminating hangover.

Watch at night how fireflies streak
Through the dark foliage
Like magical beings,
During the day you soon realize
They’re just a bunch of
Crawling insects.