Shangrila Me by Alejandro N. Marrero 5/7/2020
I’ve built myself for protection a fortress of disassociations and relentlessly impenetrable vices
Froth filled and high waves crash on my citadels base as emotions whip me with their cruel attachment of devices
I need to be free from my thoughts and body of predominately tanned hues
Easy to find my afflictions but sunny plateaus made an elevated winter my tan anew
Behind an inner castle in a land of snow is a trail you follow into a valley with prayer flags
They’re to send blessings, represent elements and lead to the peaceful golden stags
The auspicious symbols predominantly displayed as I walk further south towards the monasteries
Places as ancient as one can comprehend and filled with the cure to ego grasping and suffering’s remedies
There’s no need to knock for there is just a multicolored symbolic rich fabric door curtain
It’s how the the Tibetans stop the winds from ruffling their prayer texts I’m probably certain
At least this is what I thought, sought and swore was a need to rid me of mental turbulence
I came here with my inflated and tattered mind to mold the impermanence into diamond like permanence
They tell me they want to cut off all my hair, don me in robes and lose my grasping of self
They want me to posses nothing but an alms bowl, prayers, meditations and a winter pelt.
For years I’d built a castle to weather the storm and live in all my so called luxuries
The waves crashing so below as I polished all my literary or bobbled discoveries
Now I’m broken and addicted to the body, ego and the senses it feels threatened without
It doesn’t matter though, wealth, people, phenomena are incorrectly perceived and those monks will help me figure it out
They’ll wash me of my past, give me a foreign name and heal all of my doubts.
In this land of snow, this Tibetan retreat where the chants clear the mind and cures its ever present shouts.