Day Old Stew on Track 15
A few hours on the train
and you have drifted in and out of
every love you have experienced,
most of them black and white at this point,
the bright color of them lost to time.
Ah, but what still lives! Glorious.
A few hours on the train
and you have examined the philosophies
that come at you from all sides,
particularly the last few, oriental, ancient wisdom religions
and the faith you carry with you,
a colorful sword and shield invisible to most.
A few hours on the train
and you pour though the photographs
on your phone, taken in a moment of God’s breath
telling you things the image alone does not convey,
secrets of your soul hung like paintings on the walls.
Your life is a museum now.
Too long to live soley in the moment,
more things to pack away than there is space
so it all seeps in, one to the other,
like a fine stew, kept a day after cooking
a spice filled mix, made better with time.
About this poem.
Oh the things you think about when you travel by train! No responsibilities. No need to pay attention to anything but your mind. Sitting in my Amtrak coach, I have also read, two books with deep esoteric philosophic roots, forcing my Methodist mind to think.
It’s not a bad thing. Sometimes zen. Sometimes a rock and roll party.
Inspiration translates to “God’s Breath”, just in case you did not know.
And I still have 10 hours to go.
Tom
Quarry House 
My, that’s quite a train ride. I always liked staring out of a train window and the rocking motion.
I love traveling by train. I probably don’t do it enough.
I was stuck at a car wash last Saturday as my car was getting detailed. They told me 2 hours, I think it may have been 5 or 6. I lost track. But it did give me huge amount of time to think. And I played phone games. I ended up weeding and sorting and categorizing all my phone photos. I could have been much more productive. But my car looks grand.