Amritsar

Here at the center of the pool

The Golden Temple checks its mirror

And takes a long bath in the cool.

The gold sun also bathes its face.

Some nights, the moon comes down as well.

Celestial bodies know this place.

The paper kite - a soul has given its soggy face in pink surrender

And floats upon the waves of heaven.

The gold carp in their nibbling school is the blessed residents below,

Eating prasad thrown in the pool.

The waves are lit with electric light, yet holy songs emit more current:

Kirtan is sung here day and night.

Each pilgrim, family husband, wife

Bathe each day for health and wealth,

Bathe for everlasting life.

Yet, who bathes inside the mind?

Who scrubs down to the spotless self?

The inner pool is hard to find.