Your Death
I saw your death yesterday in your fingers. / It was death like people had in the old days.
Waterfall: An Epilogue
For you who wrote about the promise of waterfall / Who freed my spirit with the force of language
Tibetan Nights
The only thing that breathes is the sound of engine / Relentless in its climb against the steep rugged pass
Once I had a Home
Once I had a home / A paradise called Sun City Lhasa / Once I knew a peaceful moon and blue sky
To You from Exile
Since no cranes are left / I can only send my / Message with the winds; …
On the Wing
’… … to Lithang and back’ / That’s what he said
Nomad III Revisited
He slowly gathers up his shaggy herd / To prepares them for the lowlands,
If I Die
If I die my dear ones / Don’t cry for me / For I never cried for anyone
I wish to be Buddha
You are nothing but everything / So simple yet so complicated
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I am just a soul in a fixed / Crying for the right direction / My mind is so mixed
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when they call me / by a quarter / of the name i was given / by my lama,
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teach me how to be / gesar’s daughter: / fierce / warrior-like / firm in the war for truth
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mother, i have / inherited / your hands. / each wrinkle speaks
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the chang tastes just like the one / your grandma makes every winter before she leaves / for dorje-den and varanasi,
Exile
Exile / is a marigold / blushing luxuriantly
Wonder if I –
Wonder if I flew above the malice, / and into your heart, / brushing through the hymns,
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Why do you do that? / disfigured polka dots / on the back of my dress / ironed just yesterday
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All that has been embedded / in the deep ruins / of an abandoned root / is now watered with the vows,
Old Echoes
Smell of freshly churned butter tea / Coming from our 4 ft. square kitchen, / In our small home back in Bir / Where our long sighs tell our grief
A Barred Blessing
In the cold snowy mountains / In Tibet / Her nomad parents — / named her Tenzin / A privilege worth risking it all.