along the rails

I wait ticketless
as if in a terminal for
night trains

each morning is a different journey
from the same place

or maybe it is further along the rails
in increments I cannot see

continents have changed while I awoke

years have slid though my fingers
yet the feel of the morning is the same
this sip of earth that fills my lungs

the slow waking up
of the universe in space and time

always amazed it seems
both the universe and I




naga.moon.rai