Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Homesick in Dharamsala

First Sunday of
Advent of longing and trying not to
Give in
To boredom and discouragement

Calendar weeks of waiting
Impatient
We make kora
Adding force to spinning prayer wheels
Stop

Before crossing
The line of crinkled eyes
All singing toward the hill
Where His Holiness is

Living in exile

I have no idea what this means

Voices hearty and hopeful
Chanting hands throw flour into the air and

Everyone in this city
Wants to go home

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Dearest Aine,

So sorry I didn't get a care package in the mail! Thinking of you every day and hoping that you are well! Had a wonderful visit with Lizzy in Ireland over the Thanksgiving break. Hope you guys get to hook up in London. I'll make sure to try and get in touch with mom before then. Anyway, just wanted you to know that you are in my thoughts and prayers! Lousy that I didn't get anything in the mail to you but I promise to give you lots of hugs when I see you next.

All my love, Mary Dargie

curiousexplorer said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
curiousexplorer said...

=(

Dove

Rachel said...

What an incredible poem. Moving!
I saw your pun arm and it made me smile.
Home misses you, too, beautiful.
It snowed this morning.
I am sending my love your way.