After The Rain: In The Land Of Happiness

 

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I can still hear the rain pattering

on red and green ridged tin rooftops –

against silhouettes of mountainous forests

in varied lush tones of emerald.

 

Grey clouds are soaring skyward, as fog

steadily descends: between clouds

and fog a magnificent light bursts-

illuminating the land of thunder dragons.

 

Ink-blue sky peeps intermittently below

the grey clouds right through the splendid light:

Even as rain stops and fog creates a halo over

the stupa’s many tiered golden roofs.

 

A man or two in tartan brown and black Gho

have descended onto the washed streets,

as a woman in a purple silk Kira walks by my window

cautiously, as do cars ascending a light-swathed valley.

 

In the distance I see grey peaks, white peaks

that are etched out in thick smog,

as clouds through them hop in and out in turns –

as if characters playing their part for a live audience.

 

The green wood’s stage irradiated as if by Arclight

is visible in fog, also mud-tracks on hills in the backdrop:

as hearts in ‘the land of happiness’ – Bhutan illumined

by spirituality: are unfazed by anguished deluges.

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