Three old Tibetan monks walking with canes

yellow and red and wrinkled and bent in the sun

smiling and one could think it's enlightenment

that secret shared in smile

but it could be the winter sun

harsh and blazing and cold

the end of the road the end of the small laboured steps

through all the dust in the world

all the chains being opened

as the blue of the sky and the lakes and the glaciers

come and embrace the fading mind

22.02.2015