Bora born

Golden child _

A story told with emotional voice
of moments in his life passing
on a workshop bench
with one for company
his friend, the quiet listener.

It was the day before he left the town
in the place of many waters
not much time to say goodbye
this day, to the workshop worker.

He recalled a time in his distant youth
as he travelled the world over
in the Nepalese hills, a monastery
the setting well remembered.

An unlikely place to tell his tale
as they sat on the workshop bench
a tale of silence, in a place of noise
though when you think of it
made perfect sense.

He spoke of a scene of mystery
as he recalled that life changing day
the monastery and the powder chilled quiet
giant oak doors wide open
to beckon him come inside.

He entered as if drawn by a will
not entirely his own
to cat walk in reverence to
the spirit of the ancient room.

Centered within this ambiance
centered within his being
the silence to engulf his mind
no pretense found here.

Silence _ so still born
body rhythms could be heard
increasing to a deafening pitch
like cicada's in his ears.

Only within a holy place
will you find this inner noise
to draw attention to the need
for silence to be reborn.

As he moved within the chamber
to the slow rhythm of his heart
an inner sense slowly surfaced
intent to play it's part.

Tender moment passed
to his workshop friend
the emotion now gathered and rose
as he recalled this time
with feeling, and a mystery
about to unfold.

He slowly turned to face the light
the old oak let flood on through
to catch his breath with ancient grace
the child in him reborn.

Framed by the light was a golden child
barefoot in an orange gown
the glowing smile to embrace his heart
with feelings of his own.

On the breath, his spirit rose
mind relaxed, now free
a lesson given for his carnal mind
to relive in time of need.

In a moment, the child was gone
no need for words here
to leave behind a place in his heart
the legacy to always be free.

Tears welled up
the voice trembled
his dreaming now well in place
the black belt met the Light Warrior
in a smile on a child's face.

The child in him reflected
in the light warrior of the room
in times of need, another held
for those who care to learn.

He carried this moment
throughout his life
to share with those in need
to unlock the hearts of others
by example his feelings lived.

In his workplace now
men, have gathered
to feel, and tend his need
shaved heads, respect mirrored
the light warrior for all to see.


- O -
          
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa  


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Golden child _

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