The Way To Tibet

On a perfect bright day in the month of July,
The colorful Queen train is slowly snaking through the gorges of the magnificent Himalayas.

I gasp for the
thinnest and lightest air I ever breathed,

Worked harder than a 12-hour shift to inhale

You follow, as if it’s easier for you, maybe it is

Just to start slowly passing out from both joy and its withering effects


Our eyes are peeled for every peak, for each rock that we surpass

Each turn of the tracks, squeak by squeak

Turns the car into a turntable, and another 45 gets

A moment to shine and share the joy, the incredible ride

One or two meters, five or twenty kilometers,

Gives a way with a new discovery,

Another shivering of the skin in anticipation


One more breathtaking sight, another luscious mind-flight

Not a single word we can utter, not to miss this majestic viewing

Yet we sing aloud in our souls, showering the moving floors with our innate sound


As if you held a one of a kind Fender Jag,

I can hear crystal clear the strings wind through the dark of the tunnels,

As a shade of the caravan would in the Gobi desert

I run to my suitcase and grab a set of beautifully painted maracas;

I feel the wood clap up to heaven

Even though journey is long, strenuous even

Our brains are in high alert
at all times, can’t miss a beat

But the body, the vanilla sugar scented body I brought with me,

Am I really in it? 
Is it I - in this place and time?

Flutters, under your hands as if hundred butterflies

Rested on a wet grassy, dew-full field


In the North Carolina mountains. 


Spreading what nature gave them to fly

Each finger you lay on my hips in mid-air, or so it feels,

I float above and in between the life and fantasy of the clouds that surround me, and you. 


I surrender at once

Your hands feel to me the way a waterfall slams gently on a rock,

It craves to keep but wash away at once.

This is the way to Tibet

On the wings of your fingers

Breathless.

12-27-12