once upon a time

I prayed the hail would melt into gentle rain

and come to wash my colours every morning;

for strong wind to fill me with awe for the mountains where they were born;

for Rangyong waters to carry my soul back to the Kanchenjunga.

I prayed for the spirit that hid behind a rock

who came to me in a dream one night after twelve weeks of silence.

deep inside

you are afraid of the hail,

so afraid the river will swallow you one day

that you must tame it.

your fear has entered me,

every morning I dream of a swollen river,

of a wind that destroys;

I mumble a forgotten prayer for today’s departed.

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