In Exile

As an old exiled migrant worker eking
Out a living in this desert of Kuwait
I hear in the echoes of the muezzin's call
The gongs of Drepung & Sera, the flutter of
Prayer flags and the whir of prayer wheels.

When the doctors diagnose the aches & pains
As the onset of age,I know these to be
But silent screams of longing for a land
Treasured & loved in the childhood corner
Of my heart, now forever snatched from me.

O Tibet,land of my fathers,land of Dharma!

With my childhood eyes I see the Himalayan
Peaks caressing the jet streams whirling
Uncaring across the globe.In the spray of
The Tsang-po I see tears, as it rushes down
The peaks to follow us into exile. I see
This plateau stretched out across the heart
Of Asia & mine too, crying, crying to all
The Budhas and Bodhisatvas.
O Tibet my heart cries out for you.