The Monk’s Vision

The Monk’s Vision

Aloft a brothel’s barge
with two beside
liquid lines processional,
embowered golden scents,
stood a painted courtesan
as in a vision the monk saw.

His chanting fingers trembled,
as if her subdued scarlet figure
were of a bride, pink as dew,
whom he had left to follow
the path of his enlightenment.

Fearful he took a closer look:
the vision turned, her gaze obsidian
and chill his blood like the Yangtze ran
his visage grayed like the Changjiang Plain
where she for him in dishonor won
his pellucid peace with her forsaken cries.

He made as to rise, prostrate to sink, reverent,
but she her glance of saber-scorn withdrew
and looking behind at her companion true
whispered, “There sits a saintly hooded fool!”


For dVerse’s MTB, synesthesia is the name of the game and I thought I’d add a bit of ekphrasis to it to spin an operatic tale. Be sure the check out Mr. Linky for more offerings in this vein.

26 thoughts on “The Monk’s Vision”

  1. I love the operatic tale of the saintly hooded fool. This was a dramatic moment:

    the vision turned, her gaze obsidian
    and chill his blood like the Yangtze ran
    his visage grayed like the Changjiang Plain

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this: what an evocative and colourful tale!
    ‘the vision turned, her gaze obsidian
    and chill his blood like the Yangtze ran’
    Made me imagine all those places I have never seen!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is remarkable, Dora. I am drowning in the world of your words. Stirring, if not stunning.

    “embowered golden scents,
    stood a painted courtesan
    as in a vision the monk saw.”

    Dark imagery, and the verses are lyrical in this foresight from the monk. What a beauty this is, it’s an honor and pleasure to read your work. You have talent, poetess. Never stop writing and inspiring. ❤️

    Like

    1. Thank you so much, dear Lucy! Forgive me for the late reply. I don’t know how I missed it. Your golden words always encourage me to not give up on Lady Poesie. 💝

      Like

  4. I’m so glad you added the picture. Your imagination in creating this story is keen and your choice of words, as in, chanting fingers – gaze obsidian – pellucid peace – saber-scorn and my favorite – saintly hooded fool

    Liked by 1 person

  5. An incredibly arresting poem filled with mesmerizing images! I love; “her gaze obsidian and chill his blood like the Yangtze ran his visage.”💝

    Liked by 1 person

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