Cold stone walls hug the aged temple door
Granular cruelty grinds against the soles
An unheeded step could bruise the toughest toes
The curling of them on the hint of dampness unknown

The sharpness of camphor always hangs low
Admixed with basil and jasmine and curious dung

Chanting relentless, syllables unheard
The rituals seem foreign, the decked idol forbidding
The dab of cold sandal feels absurd

Red rice clustered along palmar crease 

Ignorant of when to toss it, the hows, whys and whats,

Toss it right, toss it with reverence

Too many rules, not a moment of ease.

To hell with all the mind boggling, mindless motions
The glare of the priest at an unintended movement
The intimidation of complexity coaxes my feet to a corner
Lotus down, relieved at the distance from the altar

A breath eases out, I close my eyes in solemn
Chanting flows in, numbing the chimp within
The air is dense, the odor pleasantly heady,

The tranquilizing chime of bells quietens all chatter

The moments so pass, it matters not in number
The hand on my shoulder breaks my non-slumber
This is how it feels to smile without reason
A reason, however, to retrace steps that treaded prior in reluctance
So the stone walls beckon again but now not to the altar
The stone walls that contain that which cannot be pinned
The corner is now my corner, if not that, then some other
I step out without flowers, without sandal, neither red nor rice
I step out only with a skip, a full heart and a ready smile