Saturday, January 24, 2015


On a train crossing Central England
he is not the same man who left
but he's thankful for the meadows and the trees,
weather is surprisingly good,
he's thankful for being home.

To be reunited with innocence,
hurt and pain are unloaded here.
Tired. Shouldn't have carried
so much luggage.

Back to his motherland's womb
he is one with perfection
to sing and recite poems to the stars
to dance with the wind and the earth
like a whirling Dervish.


  1. Every journey is a circuitous trip which brings us home. You have expressed this so thoughtfully and painstakingly in these lines, with full awareness that change is inevitable but home remains a necessity.

  2. It is hard to carry burdens around. Which is why I talk to myself sometimes.