Shadows

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The streets of Lhasa have their own shadows

And shadows have their way of living

If you stare long enough you may see them flicker and talk

Stand in line; wait for your turn as if a pilgrim in the early morning

Lean and press your ears to the peephole

Listen to Jokhang’s lost sea and its demonic mistress…

 

Time is eternal in the dark sea

The waves have swallowed my last shriek

In the madness of my grief I sit, my face upturned

Are you capable of kindness to yourself?

Then look at me!

I am you exiled by fear, chained underneath a blatant lie.

 

Those who have seen her have never returned

Vanished under broad daylight as if imagination

Flitting in and out, no one knows if they live or die

I hear they join the shadows across the city

It must be true; of late their numbers have increased

I see them hover in groups when prying eyes have gone to sleep.

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