|29 April 2005||2005429|
Car horns bellow up the dust on a street in India.
She is not really lost, when anyone in the crowd might be her next guide.
Sweaty arms waving a map, pointing, hailing fate
A gamble, but she wins more times than loses.
Scroll right to the bottom of the page,
Where the writing stops, stare,
And imagine you could see what she sees,
And be one traveller.
But it's yesterday's date, she could be anywhere.
Smiling, frowning, a hundred expressions under
That same old hat she bought at a night market in Thailand.
That same dusty backpack, and everything else changing.
And you waiting for updates.
And you knowing you could never be her.
|If you don't mind me asking, what NGO do you work for in China? I'm currently working in Thailand and thinking about working in China.|
01.05.2005 , 15:31
|It's called Sanchuan Development Association, a local NGO. I'll email some more information to you.|
02.05.2005 , 10:40
|Very well written. Exactly mine and everyone's thoughts, I am sure, as we wait for updates on Leylop's blog!|
17.05.2005 , 13:48
|Hello Todd, your picture of leylop in your poem matches so much the Dharma bum of this century, leylop is traveling miles around the people she meets, still remains in the mind as a teacher and student at same time. All the best. Giovanni|
24.05.2005 , 14:06
|ha, good one todd|
07.07.2005 , 20:22
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