Wat Rong Khun, by Efren Laya Cruzada

The White Temple by Chalermchai Kositpipat (Thailand) 1997. Photo by JJ Harrison (https://www.jjharrison.com.au/), CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Wat Rong Khun

A sculpture of Iron Man with a crown of flames
sits on a bench outside of The White Temple
near head statues of orcs, elves, demons,
Captain America, The Hulk, Hellboy, Batman,
and other heads dangling
from the thick branches of a slanted tree.
No grand explanation for their arrangement
other than being World Things that recall our time
placed near the seraphic beauty
of the modernist white temple and its fragments
of mirrored glass that line the edges
of the white flames brightening the structures
from the bridge to the Ubosot, the main building
where, inside, a mural of more World Things
from our time are playfully painted.

Before we go, hand-in-hand, into the marvel,
let us first explore the outer parts and admire the statues
of Naga serpents and their sculpted flames
of Thai and Hindu gods and their sculpted flames
and stroll beyond a big lotus
made of hundreds of thousands of tin pieces
and through a walkway
underneath hundreds of thousands of tin pieces
(we might need to relieve ourselves by now
so past a fountain is a restroom building
sculpted with golden flames)
and walk beyond a Bodhisattva
and the tinier Bodhisattva above it
wreathed together in golden flames.

Only after we have exposed ourselves to enough beauty
that we want to dissolve in it
do we stroll toward the heavenly structure
and admire, at a distance, the Ubosot
that appears to be pulling
white flames toward the sky
and its reflection
in a pool of silver and orange fish
that appears to be blurring
white flames in a mirror reality
and after we have overcome
the seduction of another realm
will we stand before the entrance of a bridge
surrounded by two pools of a hundred or so hands
reaching, grasping
to where no rope exists to pull them out
of a concrete hellscape
as we peer closer
and see
faces in agony.

Take heed of the warriors that point at us
before we journey beyond desire
and cross the bridge into the Ubosot
and feel ourselves dissolve
into white flames lined with mirrored glass
images of ourselves shattering
as we enter the temple
where a mural
of Hello Kitty, Transformers, Pokémon
and other World Things of our time
surround us
among planets
painted in bright pinks and yellows
and planet-sized lotuses
painted in bright pinks and yellows
and we exit from these World Things
feeling our own permanence and impermanence
as we vanish
in front of a gargantuan sculpture
of the art god Ganesh
placed back onto the world
as we stumble
into a workshop
of everyday artists and workers
shaping
white plaster and mirrored glass.

Efren Laya Cruzada

Efren Laya Cruzada was born in the Philippines and grew up in South Texas. He studied English and American Literature and Creative Writing at New York University. He is the author of Grand Flood: a poem. His work has been published in The Light Ekphrastic, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Star*line, and other journals, with work forthcoming in The Tiger Moth Review. Currently, he is working on a poetry collection based on travels throughout Latin America and Asia. His day jobs have included coaching chess, teaching ESL, and writing for blockchain media companies. He now resides in Austin, Texas.