LORD OF THE DANCE
Tin
and
copper,
bronze art,
sacred craft
placed here in temple,
some eons ago.
Gifted to a humble
village by a grateful king.
Whoever defiled its resting
place was pronounced cursed.
For money, men came
and stole Shiva away across the seas to a fine city of steel and glass. Skyfire
burned to the heart of that city.
Sold on, for millions,
to a southern land. Bushfire burned to the heart of that city.
When the theft became
known, this statue was returned to its former abode.
Now the Lord of the
Dance is in its niche once more,
where reverence
mingles with the monsoon.
Rainbows sing in
verdant fields.
Devotees now smile.
Destruction leads to
creation,
purifying life’s
illusion.
Reality may be
preserved.
Bliss walks hand in
hand with people.
Essential
goodness.
is
ALL.
VGow 11/08/14
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