Stretched out in India, sifting through my thoughts,
Alone but not alone, floating on the inside,
Digesting not just the food, but working through
The scents of Istanbul, the sweat I left behind,
My karma was aroused, or was it just conjoined?
It’s nothing I can touch, but still I know it’s there…
A sitar and a flute, together and apart,
Sounding out a song, helping my thoughts along,
An oasis in the desert, that was no mirage,
The princess of the Spa, Mecca for the strong,
Those Cleopatra eyes, softened the encounter,
And then that moment passed, into a thousand (s)miles…
Stretched out in India, transforming my despair,
Tomorrow I’ll pack my suitcase, folding up memories in there.