Saffron Monk
The saffron monk sits still
Upon the bench of wood
Feet tucked
Wrapped round and round in streams of cloth
Rippling rivers rise
He is a mountain
A hive of bees
Honey held sacred within his soul
His chant a buzzing calm
His offering
He is a giant cinnamon bear
Warm and rough giving way
To wait
It is not yet his time
Patient, he will not disturb the fish
And reverent, hums
Heather M. Browne is a faith-based psychotherapist, recently nominated for the Pushcart Award, published in the Orange Room, Boston Literary Review, Page & Spine, Eunoia Review, Poetry Quarterly, Red Fez, Electric Windmill, Apeiron, The Lake, Knot, mad swirl. Red Dashboard published two collections: Directions of Folding and Altar Call of Trumpets.
