Yes, our blood is warm.
It seeks, it goes forward.
And it points to how in life
The vapours of youth, of joy,
Of piety and inspiration
Pour forth like honey
Only to melt away so quickly,
Leaving their mark behind
Many centuries later.
And so, as I stand here
In an almost impossibly verdant
Fertile landscape, far from home,
Blessed by the unfamiliar constant warmth
Of a blazing Asian sun.
And soaked in the heady humid foreign air,
Perfumed by scents unknown,
It is now that I can sense
Some sweet distillation of the past,
Stirring in the air.
And soon luminous light
Is seemingly everywhere:
Even in the glances of strangers
From many other lands,
Whose suddenly realise, with a smile,
That they too can now tap into this moment,
This cauldron of precious perception,
That it has taken us all
Travel across continents
To find here today – unique, illuminated, bejewelled,
In the midst of temple ruins, long since forgotten,
In the clambering, grasping riot of the jungle.
Its like you read my mind!