Jeffrey George

The Gupta Temple

Stepping toward the ancient edifice
My mouth gaped in awe,
My face, kissed by the crisp, cool air,
The door of my mind opened in wonder.

The Gupta temple towers in glory
Carved, stone blocks embraced the tangled vines,
Twisting and intruding in every gap,
Invading each wedge, all entwined.

We entered into history, hand in hand
Surveying the temple, abandoned by the centuries of old.
The exquisite art, the sculptures looming on high,
And the architecture reflecting the age of gold.

Hindu priests no longer worship here
But activity occurs with the shrine
The screeching of leaping monkeys captured my ears
Vibrant peacocks roamed, feathers draping down their spines.

The glory of the Guptas still remains,
Though the kings, the scholars and priests perished in ages past.
The priceless status of the treasures of Gupta culture,
Is a spectator of modern India’s splendor.


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.