Red Blood

Koh Ker Koh Ker Koh Ker
there are a hundred temples
deep within the jungle there
your red clay roads remind me of home
deep in the Georgia countryside
where the soil bleeds Cherokee blood
and deep in the mud is baked
a litany for the great people
who marched away in tears
after all these years and miles
i am here in Cambodia
country that has captured my heart
the art of a temple is complex
whether miniature buildings baked in the sun
driven into the black of night
or carvings nestled by holy water
—Vishnu, Shiva, Brahma—
sinking in earth, worn by monsoon rain
oh Koh Ker Koh Ker the pain
of descending into the past
where light struggles to penetrate jungle canopy
and ponds are thick with reeds
where you can step both feet and
walk on holy water
but the miracles of Koh Ker
are not without punishment
for it is the way of the jungle
beware the scorpion, beware the tarantula
beware the deoum rokar, tree so hard
with thorns sharp as blades of steel
but there are also ways to heal in the jungle
like the leaf of war-knog that knows
ways to sooth the churning
i come to the jungle for learning
the ancient ways of calming mind and body
away from the spoils of modern life
Koh Ker Koh Ker Koh Ker
share your secrets as we pour water
upon your lingam and wash away the
red blood of the past