A stupendous stupa garden sits in open space, its golden arches and rain worn white washed shapes glow in the early morning dew.
Rocks worn by the sun, touched by devotion, forming a great wall of wishes and prayers fading slowly out of sight. Their earthen syllables echo in space. This is the land of Guru Rinpoche.
A cave of endless wonder, beyond comprehension or belief. A power inside limitless in its abundance of all. The statued form of Padmasambhava peers out into the darkened surroundings. Above, flags flutter lightly in the foggy breeze, A Fisherman casts his line - in the stillness there is peace and quiet eternal.
Deep in the woods, as if calling me by name, A cremation stupa covered in flags and mossy rock speaks out to me. Something of great importance happened here, I am sure beyond doubt. Full of fervent energy, washing out in all directions, like a supercharged dharmic explosive. It pulls me in.
Here in Tashiding, amongst all these great feelings of devotion and history, Something of great importance surely happened here. Here in this stupa garden, This garden of wishes, This garden of wondrous dreams. Here in this great stupa garden of Guru Rinpoche a great and noble power is still brewing.
