Anattā: Promenade Beach, Pondicherry
I sat meditating in my
pale and painless blemish-
gray garb in the alabaster
prayer-porch beneath the
pointed and water-stained arch
of a placid aquamarine dome.
Early morning surf had passed,
and if one cannot disbelieve
the incessant cadence of
thunderous clamor, the gusting
and rushing winds, the goading
summons of the sea—it is
hard, to say the least, to
disbelieve in
the sea.
So much more so my self, so
singularly like the shimmering
skin of seawater, within my
own body, immersed in its deep,
biting heat—the heat of
the dazzling tides, perhaps,
or the sun; the heat of the
burning brine; or for those
who don’t like to see things
that way, the chill of the
disorienting, eternal
solace.
.
Though born in humble circumstances, Clarice Hare received a privileged education and has lived a fascinating life, traveled widely, and never said no to an opportunity for exploration or enlightenment. She currently lives in obscurity in the southern U.S. with an assortment of furry and scaly pets.
Amethyst Review 