The Bo tree doesn’t give shade
To Buddhists only
It’s doesn’t cringe in disgust
As nonBuddhists walk by
The church bells toll
To mark the hour
To remind the faithful of their faith
Regardless of their faith
The calling for evening prayer
When the sun is setting
When voices become quiet whispers
It calms all, those who pray, those who don’t
The sound of bells fill the air
The Swarmi walks around
Praying, sharing the puja
He doesn’t even notice the unpottu-ed girl in the crowd
Written for Reconciliation 