Monday, April 13, 2015



Perhaps you are dreaming you are on foot, cross-country;
direction, pace and schedule at your discretion.

Not sure of your destination, you become impatient,
at times, calculating, despairing and distraught.

But suppose you awaken on a train
whose direction, speed and agenda

are precisely and immutably determined beforehand,
no need to take upon your head, heart and shoulders

any perceived missed opportunities,
appointments and connections,

the wistful fleeting possibilities.
Relax in your seat, watch the unfamiliar

terrain unroll through the glass;
get to know the conductor, your neighbors.

A biscuit and cup from the chaiwalla
will fortify you, satisfy

your hunger and thirst
until the point of your ultimate disembarkation.

O child of God, neither the local nor the express
can be driven from the passenger car.

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