Mandala
|Namaste,
An old caretaker man lies on his back inside an erotic temple with 24 carved images of playful sexual pleasure. He welcomes devotees covered in their piety, devotion, shadows, offering flowers, oil flame light, petals, incense, foot worn stone paths. Interiors.
Ring a bell, many bells, fingerprints wear down stone. Human gestures vibrating bells across a valley.
Endless brick factories fill the Sudal valley. Humans living in brick shacks, using water, clay, wooden forms, creating gray bricks. Sand, dust, hand labor, coal fired smokestacks, piles of coal being crushed, hauled on backs to fire. Fire gray red. The scope and density of men, women and children pouring their lives into their daily effort.
This massive element of people surviving. You walk on streets made of bricks, seeing brick homes rising to blue sky. Brick by brick.
A mandala. Centering the universe with non-attachment.
The center that I cannot find is known to my unconscious mind. I have no reason to despair because I am already there, sings a Nepalese child.
Metta.
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