With utter abandon
She runs
Gangly limbs
All astrewn
Head rolled back
Now lolling
Side to side
She runs
Only for the joy
It seems
Of running
Down Bengali Tola
And as my camera
Finally finds her
She finds me
Impossible to gauge
To comprehend
Without standing
In the midst
Feeling the flow
Feeling the insignificance
Of one more being
In this tumultuous rapids
Of being
In a very important sense
The tanks are assets
The propane is product
Both have value
While the men transporting them
Represent labour
Labour is an expense
The material vs the abstract
While the bells clang
Insistently
In golden Varanasi
Where the priests
Celebrate Shiva
With a dance of fire
Saffron
Colour of purity
Symbol of abstinence
Purge the tainted
Cleansing ritual
| Be Good Do Good |
Serve Love Give |
Purify Meditate Realise |
I struggle to see
The beauty here
In a world
Of grim and grime
Of damage and refuse
The hard task
On this spirit path
Find the beauty
In all things
But there is colour
Form and texture
Elements underlie design
And the dynamic
Of a captured moment
In an old man’s morning
And then
On some glorious sunset evening
I see the world in silhouette
And understand how
We are all the same
Pix to Words 