10.26.09

Waiting for the train.
Warm, fall afternoon.
Car windows
cracked open,
gentle breeze
brushes my cheek.
Train's late.
Locked the doors,
closed my eyes
to rest,
darkness came,
sleep.
I see the
twilight sky.
Out the corner
of my eye,
next to my cheek,
I see His profile.
Dark, soft skin,
long forehead,
straight nose,
cheek lingering on my cheek.
Train whistles.
I wake slowly.
A gentle breeze
brushes my cheek.
.
.
.
Bhagavad Gita 10.32: "Of purifiers, I am the wind. . . "
.
.
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