Betwa Retreat


bliss conquered at the top of the temple

rain drizzling, pouring, now bouncing off the surface

plunging into holy water, across the groves

the green groves across the Betwa

numb and ticklish go the inner veins of my feet

glasses wet with drops that leak

haze formed upon every leaf


cow, holy, soft sinew, idles in the temple ruin

shelter across the river blue

crowds as cough stricken old men grew

refuge failing, falling short

hands drip of rain and shiver

pilgrim after pilgrim dips into chaste chill river

temple after temple ruined moss that quivers


retreating monsoon chants a lilting rhyme away

with it blows bliss like a bird in flight away