A precious moment in a distant land

It was a glorious night
The moon was full and bright
The Stupa so dominating and white
A large imposing dome, bathed in moonlight,
A majestic and humbling sight.
The scent of fresh flowers wafting towards us
The melancholy ring of a temple bell with no fuss
The distant soft strains of melodious chants ease
The distinctive sound of rustling Bo leaves in the gentle breeze
Worshippers dressed in white kneeling with devotion
Hands together, deep in thought, quite still, no motion
Flickering flames from oil lamps that in rows lay
Fed with coconut oil, small and made of clay
Casting a glow and illuminating ignorance
A scene so calm and truly wondrous.

I was with friends, far away from England,
In a temple in Sri Lanka, this alluring island.
A little girl dressed in white
A face as innocent as the unspoilt night
Playful yet so elegant and shy
Approaches me with quiet dignity
With a smile of love and generosity
She hands me a fresh Araliya flower
I was moved became limp, lost power
My heart melts and my eyes glisten
I thank her and wanted to talk and listen
But she darts away, and disappears into the distance
I sat there deeply moved, in a tranquil trance
It is a moment I shall treasure
For the rest of my life with infinite pleasure