At the Kwan Yin Temple

I climb the rock-studded mountain
past squatters' shacks
to a temple
where Chinese women fervently address
the Kwan Yin goddess

a temple attendant
gives me a cluster of incense

lighting the sticks at a candle
I put one in the mouth of each lion
guarding the entrance
and one on the altar
facing out over Hong Kong

burning incense
mists the city's
skyscrapers
and harbor
below me

my requests of the many-layered goddess
come forward
one by one
standing clear as prayers
gathered around each flame.