Seventeen years ago I walked at night
Into the melee of the Durga festival in Kathmandu
Dressing for comfort and compliance, I had filled
All my ear pierces with earrings and put on a skirt.
Mind and heart willing to participate, I saw
A dog wandering, another dog mounting and mounting it as
Traffic circled around and around. The humped dog hit by a car
The humper left and another took his place to drag
The dead out of the circle and proceed to eat it.
I sit here now remembering that oft-remembered night
Reading my journal of that moment, being with my then-self
When what was on my mind was Being, Becoming and Participation.
I was there to experience, to fill my heart with possibility.
I wrote, “everyone is my teacher, each circumstance its own teaching,
I have only one foot at a time to walk a path. I walk as tall as I am, I fill
Space only as I am, the walk is the Way. The Peacock doesn’t look back at his tail,
He knows what is there and acts accordingly.”
Life has me now as it had me then,
It has all my interest and most of my courage.
The truest sun shines on me and the only moon I know
Guides my heart while the earth offers me what I can make of it.