Under the lotus a thought catches in the web of
life – illuminated for a moment as it snags the net and jars
…an old man suddenly remembers the smell
of his mother’s milk, as his young grand-daughter next to
him tastes the tantalising rush of guilt for the first time as she
reaches out to steal a sweet scented lolly…
Then memory fades and guilt dissipates, as the
thought frees itself
and slips through the net.
Under the lotus all things sway and writhe and
bloom and decay...
Under the lotus you cannot run away from the crystalline urges of