Poem By Liilia Talts Morrison
I dream of drinking butter tea
By ever burning butter lamps
Hunzukut heights I wish to see
Tibetan nomads, brave in camps.
Thick copper colored silks above
A temple’s golden walls do flow
As Dalai Lama, young as love
Says golden prayers in lotus glow.
Now wave the vibrant prayer flags
In colors seldom seen by man
They sing a song of rocky crags
That kill as only mountains can.
The Himalayas cannot bear
Destruction of their favorite race
In silence suffer though they wear
Their pain with snowy, stoic face.
The nutmeg colored kith and kin
With eyes so dark and trusting, too
Were crushed by new age Gunga Din
Old jewels stolen, bitter brew.
Yet time cannot erase the dream
Of saffron colored incense halls
Of men and women, pure as cream
Who let mice run within their walls.
Too hard to reach by mortal souls
A place where greed will not survive
An Everest of matchless goals
Tibet in dreams is still alive.