burning bridges in billowing towers
fire and rain kissed in the ecstasy of
destruction as you killed god
with that deathray in your head

there is no calm before the storm
eternity is that single moment in the eye
shiva is dancing on the mountain top
and his feet crush his temples

and the mountain dances to parvati’s
song – all mountains do not have festering lava
but all mountains want to burst
everybody wants to burst

into stardust, and golden music
that coagulates on their skin like oil
that hisses itself onto a single matchstick
that hovers, waltzing on parvati’s gossamer
silk threads before

here ice is water and water
steam – the river, too bursts
with warmth as it trickles down
nataraj’s fiery forehead
the rice feeds hungrily on her
as her trembling fingers float over
the golden energy
and the dal blooms when she touches
its soul

wahe guruji di khalsa
here, sipping on eternitea
god wakes from his dreams
and breathes sunshine on the dying embers
of everything

Manikaran is a temple town. It has a Shiva temple and a Gurudwara where any are welcome at any time for as much food as they want.
And tea. For eternitea.


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