On The Train To Astonishia

Once upon a time,
I kicked up some dust
and the air around me
became clouded brown and white.
I closed my eyes
and counted to ten,
but even so
the dust clung to my lungs
and filled my mind.
No food, for I could not open my mouth.
No sleep, for I could not close my mind.
I floated softly
through the numb dust.
And all the while, I thought.
Oh yes, I could still think,
even in the most painful moments
I don't loose my head.
I thought of futures
and of cities
and of mountains
and of light
and of dresses
and of ghosts
and of love
and of love-ghosts
and of coffee
and holes
burnt in your brain
and of mysteries
and of people
and of anger
and of malice
and of honesty
and of paths
and of feet walking
taking turns
going forward
moving on
saying good-bye.
Swirly colors were these things
in my mind's eye
taunting
dancing
and sometimes just sitting -
rock sold.
I am just a human
I have just one life
I have just this brain
to keep sane
to keep well
to understand.
I have only two hands
to clean up messes
to mend broken things
and broken hearts.
I have only this much attention
to dole out
to spread.
I felt tired then,
the clouds, the thoughts, the love.
What does it all mean?
Give me some water
some cool, spring water.
Cascades, waterfalls, wells,
spashes, glasses, buckets,
spiggots, sprays, mists,
whatever.
A clean slate,
that it what I imagine.
Astonishment at
the world
at my two hands
and the love I feel
and the paths we take
at the things we break
at the hearts we mend.
All that.
New.
I don't feel so bad afterall.
I loosen my arms and dance
with all my new limbs.
I've not seen what's on this road,
this is not my usual path,
I don't recognize that river
that dump
that gourd
that porch
that I passed today.
It's all just fleeting?
No, it's streaming
streaming by in wonderous
slow motion.

I'll be just fine, now.