A poem by our guest writer Lalita Arya

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I went a-walking, casually strolling 

in the busy market place, there were

roaming cows, munching goats & stray dogs.

The open-air stalls were filled

with colorful handbags, real & costume jewelry

carved wooden images of two Krishnas

absorbed in their fluid notes of flutes

that Nataraj kept dancing on. 

The Buddha didn’t hear a thing

as he was fast asleep 

in his meditative state.

They were all outside the shop but

completely unaware of the noisy marketplace

being who they are.

Lalita would like the reader to be aware, no offense meant to anyone, the poem came from just words that flowed.

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Picture and Text copyright, Lalita Arya