Wind Bending Grass

On this windy day the willow seedlings sway out back of my western window at work. There are taller cottonwoods and ash beyond that. The view takes me back to another place . . .

Wind Bending Grass

Ears waving, trunk and tusks
above the head-tall grass
now bent in wind,
and jungle in the back.

So real, like yesterday,
yet not sure when.
Hot wind. Monsoon.
Quench the fire after noon.
Was it 1966? This seems too recent.
And still…

Hot sun almost lost in hazy sky.
In tall grass bent by wind
I see the ears and trunk,
but not the tiger stripes and tail.
She could be hiding.
Stone fence and iron grill
stops them all, but not
the snakes.

Saw a cobra once
by green banana grove
not hooded now to strike.
But hacked and quartered near the gate
By guards of palace grounds.
Maybe 1923. Was it a dream?
I look around.

The next excursion leaves.
It’s not too late.
The hunt of kings is not in here,
but outside the palace gates
beyond the elephant grass,
jungle in the back.

What’s in this wind
that bends the head-tall grass?

I've spent some time in Thailand, and even more in dreams. We've all lived before. It's hard to tell where it comes from. So real.