melting into smooth milky comfort
release any burden ever thought of
and rejoice louder than roaring trains.
Take tightly the offering
to boldly receive a ticket to
the blue shades to be seen differently
through laughter and suffering.
Whether it is bicycle, bus, train, or plane
the companion is remembered
not the food or the hotel room.
In the countries those will remain.
A pack cannot fit what money cannot buy,
but the ink remembers how the garden smelled,
how the waiter spoke beyond comprehension,
and how all those bicycles passed us by.
Vines lushly curl around desires
to return defeating reasons of this world
and turning those grains, bitter and strong,
into a comforting taste that one acquires.