A Thousand Temples for You

I have built a thousand temples for you, Jonggrang. 

Not 999. 

Then why are you reluctant to strike the mortars and pestle so that the roosters can crow and call the sun to rise?

Why are you reluctant to blow on the lamps so that the sun will rush to provide its early morning light earlier than usual?

Why are you reluctant to put the pots on the fire so that the sound of boiling water will encourage folks to find warmth in the middle of the kitchen?

Why are you reluctant to sweep the floor with a broom so that the dust will swirl and fly out the door and invite the wind to dance its morning greetings to the sparrows in their nests hidden in the leaves of the mango trees?

I am no Bandung Bondowoso, who could only complete 999 temples of the thousand you demanded.

You are too extreme, Jonggrang. 

The fishermen's net are still floating in the waves of the bracken waters which are rolling towards the coast of the Java sea 

This time I will not curse your body to become a statue. 

There is no need for that.