Swallows flit above the tracks in the maze of high tension wires.
A jukebox mush clashes,
with the screech of a cappuccino machine.
Switching seats, I ripped my shirt - no matter, it's an old one.
Rain in abundance, the grass,
the trees, the leaves and flowers all in abundance.
The sun peeks through clouds
There is plenty, abandoned, growing, with abandon.
The trees grow, the weeds grow.
No one stops them.
II
Stuck in Vierzon,
"A life view, belongs, as you belong, to them,
Your life even is not your own, your awareness is not of one life but of all life,
Courage, you may take in this."
III
Slender water in furrows slender by the tracks
A calm yielding fog, misting.
Barns loom a river swollen, over its banks
Trees midstream, below water,
A man in a garden shed
Where hoes and rakes are kept.
Rails grinding, metal polishing metal
Small leaves on trees, soft yellow
Sheep in field, tufts of cotton
An aqueduct monorail spanning sage.
IV
The next train doesn’t come.
I write - when thinking can't.
Future tidal forces of change
My mind is distended by super gravitation
A sphere, a hollow tube, by super gravitation.
Pride in achievement, all yours,
All dreams, all truths, all that is, grows, or dies, yours,
Now, you must leave it here, you too must leave yourself behind, when you go.
"I'm stuck in Vierzon."
I ask myself:
"Who is talking?"
