Valsa George
A fool?
I set out on a long trip,
In a train that spans from end to end.
Out through the window flashed past,
Assorted scenes one by one.
Sky scrapers and mud hovels,
Steaming cities and peaceful hamlets,
Row upon row of maize and wheat,
Bent down under the weight of grain.
Cars gliding along crowded streets
Children school bound in crisp uniforms
Cattle grazing on distant hills
Cadets on parade beside their tented camps
Smoke coiling up from tall chimneys
Sizzling cascades from the heights
Swirling streams and glistening rivulets
Silky meadows and tall mountains
Disposed not I to enjoy the scenes
My mind moored to the final halt
Saw nothing before, but the station
Fellow travellers - a flaunting menagerie
Communed to few, connected to none.
At every halt, some exited out
And strangers came in to fill the space
But all to myself-my eyes far set
Damning the distance, I waited on and on
Myself a wretched lone traveller!
Like a sailor lost in the sea,
Restless I was to reach the shore.
My ears agog to shouts of welcome
My body eager for the warm embrace
I paced the aisles and counted the miles
Impatient and irate, I grew
I dreamt, my life - a jig saw puzzle
The pieces neatly fitting together
On arrival after a tedious trip
Once and for all, at my terminus.
With my gaze fixed beyond the horizon
Caring not to see what lies before
I continue to travel miles on end
To a place that outdistances me ever!
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Reminds me of a journey I traveled. That was fifteen hundreds km. I used to get off the train wherever it stopped and talked to the people. I witnessed many different cultures within my small country. Thanks for bringing those memories to my inward eyes.
Very Well written
The reader also travels with you in the train eyeing the different scenes that pass by.-the different people who get in and alight-and then reaching the terminus. The last para is philosophical and the entire poem is fantastic.
wow this one teaches us we should enjoy the ride
and live in the moment..fabulous write
A classic example of Can't see the forrest for the trees. I'm sure we all have had numerous such experiences in our lives, finding out, after each one of them, that hind sight is 20/20.
Let the world call you a fool or rather look at you with its jaundiced eyes..
The journey is across the right lands and the lone traveller is transported into a world of terrific make. Who bothers about the erring world of these men with impoverished minds snailing on the tracks of ruins of the past incarnated?
How often do we do this in our lives? So intent on where we are going, that we fail to see the beauty of where we are. Wonderful poem!