Abhishek Awake and Dreaming
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
He rides along inside a sleeper car
With wilder jungle greens of India in rain
Inside his eye. His home, his village far
Away, still, threatens him with family pain.
He didn’t have rupees enough to fly.
He’s on this Sunday, Monday, Tuesday trip
To nowhere nearly. Back behind that eye
Of subtle brown and black where tears might drip
Inside his brain, his mind and dreams escaped
In sleep, and in that sleep his beauty filled
The night like Buddha’s thoughts and heart undraped
Vast truths. The night was with his beauty thrilled.
He lay there on the white, blue bed, his face
Ashoka’s brown blade sharpened on a mace.
