A day at Grand Central | K. Rajasvini Singha

I saw a man on the train

The softness of his smile;

His kid in his arms;

In that moment I knew,

He was the happiest man alive.

Like the wind that whispers its secrets

I watched him while he stroked his son’s head,

And then I looked,

At the budding vulnerability of life itself,

With the whole world ahead of him

He knew of nothing else but his father’s arms

They were the warmest;

The kindest glow of the morning sun;

The immediate reassurance after a nightmare;

The softest sound of running streams;

And with the surety of that

He dropped his head and went back to sleep

The train arrived at their destination and they left

Suddenly the whole place seemed empty.

There was silence between crowded footsteps,

I think I sat there for hours.