The Tank At The End Of Sanskrit Street, Gokarna Poem by Denis Mair

Down the street of temples in Gokarna
Pilgrim hostels are interspersed among compact groves
The air buzzes with Sanskrit chanting
The street ends at an open space among buildings
No gaudy hues from market street spill onto these walls
The tank's water awaits—a rectangle rimmed with stone
On the long sides there are three sets of worn steps
Each line leading the eye towards ambiguous reflections
The water is open to the sky, yet seems to be inside
Inside the temple zone, a destination reached by rear doors
Inside this enclave of plain buildings where bathers come
Generations past and present are drawn by family custom
Memories claimed or unclaimed convene over the tank
Now a group of men walk down the steps to bathe
Today's air and water refract light in an unusual way
My tourist camera does not want to intrude here

January 16,2016