Tears of Shiva shed into rivers. Cherry blossoms fell. The goddess of the confluence admired them for a time
before she released them. The tears scoured suffering. The petals added beauty. The river flows on.
I watch where streams of consciousness flow into one another and write what I see.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Crossing the River in Nepal
See the cage on the wire.
Here it is again.
See the little blue cage, this one is in use. Click to enlarge.
I'm grateful that I have not had to cross the river this way yet. Sometimes I see animals crossing over with the people in those cages. This one appears to be mechanical. Some of them are wooden crates dangling from ropes with pulleys, the people pull themselves and their belongings across hand over fist. My adopted nephew said that he lost control once and the wheel ran over his fingers. His fingers are OK now.