Writing as catharsis

Mantra of stone

Posted in Poetry, Prose by Lachlan R. Dale on February 22, 2013

Phurpa

The figures oscillate around the centre; heads
bowed, faces shrouded in coarse cloth.

They utter a deep, unhurried mantra.
Their voices catch on worn vocal chords
as the gravel of their ancient words
fill the room.

Their steps would be imperceivable,
if not for stray grains of rock that
give slip of bare feet on ancient stone.
In the chamber their masonry din seems
as if a persistent, weathered roar.

Theirs is a prayer eternal;
a devotion to echo through the ages;
an example to all entangled in life’s web of irrelevance;
a redeemer of the human soul.

The earth begins to darken and cool;
the core maintains its pulsing warmth.
The figures drone on,
timeless in the light of the dying sun.

(NB: this is a revised version of ‘Figures’ from January 2012)

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One Response

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  1. Kathy D said, on February 23, 2013 at 12:00 am

    Beautiful imagery as usual.


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