Jeep carries us along Indian roads,
out of mental constrictions,
into rays of the crisp sun

Meandering road keeps senses alert
eyes emerge into sight

Jungle’s spongy rich greenness
is a buffer for jangled nerves

Mystical sun not like that of the West

Decisions turn on a dime

Bodies in the streets;
let my body move in and out of them

There is too much flux in me

I need materiality
the earth
grounding

Sari; buffalo; holi powder
the white and gold
of Boudhanath Stupa
textures of Nepal, tastes of India

Out of the ditch of London
its mad dash, its strained faces

Aslan stripped of vitality,
lashed by the white witch

The way out is in
the way out is through

Athos has been with me for days:
his intensity breaks parochial boundaries,
breaks the sludge of constriction and doubt

Is England too small for us?
he is water, fire, romance, awareness

I too am learning the double movement
of vedana and sati

Mind the gap

Monasteries on the cliffside
smiling monks
in love with the world

Wildness revivifies
colour has depth

Depth has freedom –
the unconditioned

I am tired of learning from grief
today I am a student of the sun

Choir is breathwork

Sing with saranghi players
sing the mantras

Sing the joy
sing the pain

Grapes burst in the mouth
pleasure heals trauma

Through the portal
a clear horizon