I stand impatient, waiting for a train,
The seconds counted by the ticking clock.
The heat, the stink of fellow passengers
Suffocating me, yet still I stand.

I feel the slightest weight against my side
A moment, just. I look the other way.
An accident. It happens in a crowd.
As people hurry past, they sometimes touch.

And then I feel the grasping of a hand,
Fingers pressed against my shoulder bone.
I freeze. I cannot turn to see the face.
I cannot run. No strength to fight. No strength to move.

A whispered voice. A mix of fear and hope.
A man’s voice, though I cannot tell the age.
“There is a land I know of, far from here,
Where I have been, and where I would return.

Yet I am lost and therefore seek a guide.
I have been told that you can show the way.”
The second hand beats loud against the wall,
Footsteps marking time as they rush past.

I would inform him that I know him not.
I know of no strange land. I am no guide.
Yet, as I cannot move, I cannot speak.
And therefore I must listen to his tale.

A sitar player--where, I cannot tell--
Provides the ticking clock accompaniment.
I know I cannot stay here, paralyzed,
For I have planned a journey of my own.

But curiosity replaces fear
And so I let my silent struggle cease.
A stranger coughs, another echoes him.
Footsteps mingle with the sitar’s sounds.

“I come from somewhere close to where we stand.”
A whisper such that I can barely hear.
I would not know that someone speaks to me,
If not for the warm breath and grasping hand.

“But I have traveled far, and in my life
Have loved and fought and wept and hoped and learned.
And though time weakens some, it made me strong.
The oceans seemed less wide, the roads less long

With each adventure. Therefore when a man
Asked that I give him passage to the East
I did not hesitate to voyage on.
It was a way to fatten up my purse.

But fate is fickle. Ships are thrown off course.
My new companion, swallowed by the sea.
Surrounding me with rain and wind and dark,
Nature took her anger out on me.

Yet hope may be misplaced, but never lost.
I knew Nature would wish to reconcile
And so I carried on as best I could
Each day waiting for the sky to brighten.

And so I found myself upon a shore,
My wounds healed and my thirst and hunger gone.
Perhaps another would have felt great joy.
The strangeness only served to frighten me.

I shifted, felt and heard grass underneath.
I looked around me; grass was everywhere.
The sunlight turned it to an emerald green,
A shade unusual in a growing thing.

I heard the noise of waves against the shore,
The buzz of insects, and the songs of birds.
There was the smell of orchids, and of rain.
I felt the grass against my fingertips.

The air was warm, and touched me with soft mist,
As though it were a living creature's breath--
A being supernatural that waits,
Invisible and quiet and patient.

I slowly stood, afraid to harm a thing.
Rising, I felt weak, but stood my ground.
I gazed at the horizon, past the waves
And wondered what had carried me ashore.

Upon my neck, I felt the slightest touch.
I knew it was the wind, yet still I turned
As though I had expected someone there.
My eyes assured me that I was alone.

The feeling gone, I blinked and looked ahead.
There were some trees, and toward the horizon
I saw a mountain. I knew not how large
Or how distant it was. Night was coming.

The grass turned blackish green. The sky grew dark.
The trees transformed themselves to silhouettes.
I shivered even though the wind was gone.
There were faint strains of music far away.

I thought to find some shelter for the night.
Who knew what form of deadly creature roamed
About in darkness, silently, its prey
Unknowing, waiting hopelessly for dawn?

The distant mountaintop would be my guide.
As long as I walked toward the far-off peak,
There was no danger of becoming lost,
I told myself and so felt comforted.

Further from the shore, I ventured on.
The music sounded louder. Or perhaps
My senses, heightened, focused on the sound
And noted change when all remained the same.

Was it a remnant of a song I heard
Or notes played randomly - the tuning of
An instrument, without regard
To melody or rhythm formed by chance?

The intent of the player I knew not,
But still the sounds took hold upon my soul.
Old emotions I had long forgot
Reappeared, tearing at my helpless heart.

What music this, that stirred emotions so?
Such soulful sound, could mortal creature make?
My fear of darkness faded, soon replaced
By curiosity and strange desire.

Faster, toward the music, I moved on.
My eyes now useless, ears and heart my guides.
I thought no more of shelter, only wished
To know the being that had entranced me.

Perhaps the grass moved underneath my feet.
Perhaps the wind blew fiercely. I knew not.
I sensed the music only, nothing else.
Knowing, yet not knowing, what I sought.

The night released her hold upon the land
Slowly, like a lover’s parting kiss.
And as the dark receded, sunlight came
Showing me the mountain looming near.

The sunlight warmed the air. Colors returned.
As though I had awakened from a dream,
My senses came back slowly. I beheld
The beauty of my surroundings.