Some old scribblings, once again...

The sky is dark, faint glitter above, a few clouds conceal
So very little moves, a light breeze, a pattern does unveil
The Orion I think, a long walk, I am reminded of
We always walked north, it was winter, you pointed the east.

You and I talked, of novas exploding, the silent west wind
Worlds lost long ago, of things transient, matters that were still
Nebulae in the distance, of hazy galaxies, times yet far away
From where you are, are they brighter, stars of the Orion.

When you arrived there, did you meet, the sages you revere
Sit next to me, did they say, just like you did
Do they still ponder, what we are, and where we go
Have they yet resolved, the eternal question, who is and why.

I am now away, a new town, you must have heard
A similar dark sky, some shining stars, a few clouds conceal
So very little moves, a cold gust, a pattern does unveil
The Orion once again, it appears misty, why so I wonder.

Changing Trains

So here we go, blog created, template selected, and ready to unleash some thoughts on the world. On second thoughts, at this time, just one thought would do. Something that was scribbled a long time ago comes in handy now. A recycled thought, if you will, as the very first post:

Changing Trains.....At 14th Street Station

Iron wheels screech on iron rails
Jolting so many thoughts from their place
The man by the window wakes up, as though on cue

That loving couple there breaks their embrace
The business section of that newspaper gets folded up neatly
The others get thrown aside
The actor by the door stops memorizing his script

Some books get bookmarks, others have their pages dog-eared
The conductor mumbles an announcement
Something about where you are now and where you can go from here.

You walk out, a small flight of stairs and there you are
An underground maze, the novices who actually read the signs,
And the veterans who know their direction, or so they think
And some people around who are in no rush to go anywhere.

The big lady with a sonorous voice stands next to a pillar
Reads aloud from a holy book doing the Lord’s noble work
Supplying snippets of salvation for scurrying sinners.

A blue-eyed, shaven-head, Hare Krishna gentleman there
Chants his mantra, greets everyone with folded hands
Trying to sell detachment and selfless action to all of us who are busy
Running to amass more and still more of pleasure and pain.

The homeless man with all of his treasure in three plastic bags
Sleeping peacefully next to a small sign that says
If you could find it in your heart to spare some change.

The group of three musicians playing on their flutes and guitars
Oblivious of all around, except that young girl
Who almost stepped on their song
In her hurry to get to the exit first.

You walk on, down another flight of stairs
The familiar screech again, just in time, you think
Or you would have wasted two whole minutes, with nowhere to rush to.

As you wait on the platform, brightly lit windows sweep across your eyes
You look in, where have you seen this scene before, you wonder
That man just wakes up, that woman puts away her make-up kit
That girl there shuts her book, that tourist there stops peering at his map…

Oh enough already, just get in and go, next stop 23rd street!