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A Pink Kleenex by a Monastery Lake

Chamnongsri L Rutnin Hanchanlash

Illustration: Indigo

Oh, if they would only take the pinkness

out of the Kleenex

I’d leave it here in tender forgetfulness

to doze its mortality away

I’d let it laze under the May green leaves

on the dreamless mush-bed of brown decay

I’d leave it to die in quiet abandon

to dissolve to the dulcet tone of the spring rain’s touch

drifting gently towards sweet disintegration

to the lulling lullabies of the rhythmic lake

I’d let it lie listening to the water

that whispers timeless tales to rotting leaves

I’d let it watch how leizuredly the lake laps at Time’s forefinger

lapping, lapping to the very edge of infinite nothingness

that mortals love to call “Eternity”

Oh, never should they dye tissues pink

Nor bleach them purity white

Nor inflict them with baby-eye blueness

Nor colour them like canaries in sunlight

For, the poor prettily coloured things are destined

For the shiny dumbness of the heedless plastic bin


*This poem was written at the Chithurst Buddhist Monastery in Sussex, England.


From: On the White Empty Page, Second Edition, 2001.

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