Garden Pond

there is an island
on an island; a lake
within a lake
called Neak Pean
in the Jayatataka baray
oh if i could bathe in Anavatapta
with the lion, elephant,
horse, and ox
from whom your rivers flow
and before i know it
the water sweeps away
all negativity, all anxiety
—all insecurity—
washing across the backs
of Nanda and Upananda
i hear thunder cry and
heaven opens her eyes
lonesome tears echo across water
the surface reflects a golden light
metallic glimmering shimmer
saying, "this is the way
if you follow in your mind"
i move to the side
and snap a photo
looking towards
the central sanctuary
—the center of earth and time—
then make my way
to a small shrine
dug underground
with incense rising
amid lotus
and sla thour bay sei
this is my time
for silent prayer
a quiet moment
amid Himalayan magic
resurrected—here—in the jungle
our garden pond
without heat