Amma Noamiji
— Shiv Mirabito
The carpet factory built a bridge
across the stream to her house
where she once crossed on a fallen log
Her tiny eyes are bright and hopeful
and surrounded by deep wrinkles
that echo the ancient Nepali Himalaya
And tears have run down her valleys
like the Kalikandhaki and Shri Bagmati
But at this time she is shanti
Above her small swaddled head
in an orange clay niche
rests a large quartz crystal linga
splattered with red and orange offerings
surrounded by tiny yellow flowers
She sighs deeply
inhaling on a yak brand cigarette
through her clenched fist
looking off into the distance -
The distant future
At this time she is shanti |