On my walk to class, to the rising day,
I pass a red temple Durga
dipped in golden light, still wet
from the stars the night before.
I swim in it: the morning light
whispering salutations to the water.
Huge hooved beings galumf and sway
Their breath leaves holy dew on my shoulder;
and the whole world fits in their eyes
sacred horns on sacred heads.
Have you heard the sun sing?
The mountains in my mind recall
the red temple in the light.
And I know I have found my peace,
dipped in gold and still wet from the stars.