Taejon Ashram 

            I

 

From the train station, cross the asphalt

square; pass pigeon flocks

and a half-tended circle of tulips

to taxis. 

 

Straight through this flat city in the middle of a plain.

 

Take the elevator up

ring the bell—

on the walls

pictures of meditators

sitting in a forest.

 

            II

 

At the riverside park across the water, a TV station on the bank-sides; its satellite dishes

crown unlit upper floors.  Below the city’s sod, methane worms from sewage lines up

to river air.  Eyes closed, we stand, lessening range of thoughts to one point.

 

Back to the apartment, cars whizz wide lanes; buy ice cream for everyone.  Under a maple,

lean on a boulder, share conversation in the parking lot.  Up the elevator, look over a building

across the street: TV cables hang like snakes down the concrete walls. 

 

 

            III

 

Eat ramen, kimchi, chestnuts,

cherry tomatoes, soft cake bread. 

Drink green tea until 2 a.m.

showering

after everyone sleeps. 

 

Dream of a woman

with a body of stars

singing songs of light

into everyone.                                                                                      printable