A station is a place of miracle:
So many trains passing and repassing,
So many thoughts coming and going,
So many greetings and farewells!
Any surprise might happen there:
God come and go,
Street cries turn to stars,
Dust of blown rubbish whirl to aureole!
Thus, in such a place,
Love met me once.
That day the shining tracks seemed leaping toward eternity,
And we heard the street cries sing like stars,
And we saw God come and go
And the dust upon our hair was gold!
Now, blinded, I look past all I see:
It might happen,
Love might be there again!
It’s not that I think a railroad station heaven.
Who does!
Yet so many greetings and farewells,—
Anything might happen!
Have you not felt that way,
And, bewildered, watched;
And, longing, waited?