I,
working in a new ,
central mountain desert Temple,
noticed a carved symbol
high on Godly walls.
The lotus blossom,
not seen locally.
“International symbol
of the divine”
I was told.
8 petals,
gorgeously carved.
But why there?
Why that Buddhist symbol
in the Beehive state?
I was amused,
thinking “How silly
to use a blossom
so distant,
so unconnected,
so foreign.”
Summer drew me east,
away from that desert temple,
to the Midwest,
to the muddy creek
that had been my contemplative home,
my temple of solitude and thought
growing up.
Paddling up river
after heat,
muggy weather,
I noticed large water pads,
never before seen
in my decades in the swamp.
Then something new
rose up.
Coming out of the mud,
the decay,
through the water,
cleansing,
reaching heavenward,
large pods.
They opened,
huge,
white,
pure,
eight petals,
divine.
The scent,
pure,
delicious,
took my mind
and soul
even farther heavenward.
Now,
sitting in my canoe,
my portable temple,
eyes overwhelmed,
nostrils overcome,
soul purified,
I understand why
lotus is divine
whether in the desert
or the marsh
or the Ganges.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 
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