In Bangkok people

emerge from their beehives

early enough to throng the roads.

Busy street vendors, their

voice a nasalized twang, lure you

to Thai food. A genial smile

and gracious bow. . .

Unknown people walk away

busy with their own lives.

Wide roads stretch endlessly

baring itself to heavy wheels and footfalls

The Grand Palace beckons tourists

Its gilt and glitter reflect

the sunlight and its glorious past.

Sentinels to preserve the bygones

stand steady simulating a statue.

Through the corridors of history

decorated with murals, I become

a Thai princess; shedding years,

ugliness and the present.

I walk with majesty.

My skin assumes a bright golden glow,

eyes narrow down to a line,

lips like cherry sing a Thai melody.

Dragons come alive,

swing their tails to the tune.

Golden Buddha reposing in Wat Pho

slowly fall asleep….

Genuflecting Thepphanoms

With their pointed headgear

shower blessings – love, peace, ahimsa

The abandoned sleeping child and wife

of Siddhartha enter my soul.

Without an adieu why did you leave?

The words take wings, flit through the air

and pierce the Spiritual from the Material.