In Transit

I brace myself for the ride ahead.
Inadequately attired ... excited.
The naked, sinuating road embraces me.
The engine finds its bearings and the pace is set.
Above, through the flitting grey clouds, a glimpse of the eternal voyeur.
A crescent today ... she's smiling back.

Neither lonesome nor silent, this night wouldn't linger on.
Maybe it's the soughing wind.
It whispers, licks, bites, twirls, giggles and then leaves.
She'll be back though ... over now, over again.
Teasing me all the time.
And, then it happens.
Little drops at first ... caressing me.
Trickling all over me, tickling me all over.
I quiver, I shudder ... quenched.
It drenches me, sweet release this.
Breathless, I gasp.
Exhale yet?
Well, exhale now.

I afford observation a moment.
There, the missing element – day’s orb, ushered in.
The rustling, the chirping, the blushing sky;
All lauding a journey well made.
An extended pause, the mind shall now rest.
Briefly though.
The picture is now complete.
But the paintbrush awaits another canvas.