A monk brushes crumbs from her robes.
Banana nut muffin crumbs.
Tolling church bell crumbs.
Meditation crumbs.
A keyhole glows above her heart.
A piano tune emanates
from behind that door.
Joplin’s Ragtime.
The music reveals odd numbers.
Prime numbers really.
Granddaughter of a code-talker.
Navajo Buddhist juxtaposed.
Her saffron robes turn terra cotta.
An extemporaneous essay on kinships.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
POSTSCRIPT
New Mexico is a marvelous place for encountering religions. There are so many that have established themselves in the state. The encounters I have enjoyed most are those with Buddhists and Sufi. It seems our abundance of land, low population density and easy going life style attracts the groups.
Catholicism is the largest of all the practiced religions in NM. I am pleased the cruel practices of that faith are in the past. Of all faiths really.
I think it good that all religions are represented in close proximity. They should search for commonality so there is less religious based strife in the world.
Umflop 
Love this one! That last line sums it up beautifully.
LikeLike
Thanks, Beth.
LikeLike