Here, The Nights Are Cool

Awakening to the chatter of birds; woodpeckers pecking; an old Tibetan man chanting mantras, ringing a bell--here in the forest. Here in the mandala of His Holiness Penor RInpoche. Where brown rabbits hop, rainbow flags flutter, and tsong smoke wafts. Where I'm exhausted by people and talking at meals and retreat to the quiet of my tent on breaks. Where Keith reads and I write or nap. Here, my friends Min and Noelle offer drinks of gingerale and lime juice in their dorm room, Vietnamese sweets--as they tell me how they mix cayenne pepper into chocolate ice cream cause it's good for stomachs and lowering cholesterol. Here, small children sleep on red cushions in the temple, chase white bunnies and each other in the field. Yellow butterflies dart amidst milkweed. And still, anger flares.