I stumble over a stone
and stupidly instead of
looking at the ground
I see in the sky nothing
is at static except me
who stand still, I decided
when I was a young not
to run or wait for a train
rather the train would
wait for me, those trains
have moved fast but
I remain behind, now
I wait for trains but they
do not come, where have
they gone and why?
Motion with out purpose?
lighter things move fast,
fast moving clouds are
soothing to eyes, heaver
things more or less static,
heaver and static clouds
give more rain than the
fast moving. i ponder
and become grim like
dark cloud.
I decided when I was a child not to run or wait for a train rather the train would wait for me, those trains have moved fast but I remain behind, now I wait for trains but they do not come, where have they gone and why? ... different and real! ! !
Motion without purpose. But I think there is that we are not able to know. I like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well that shows life is not to stop but to go on..............................I remember the saying sometimes we miss the open windows of opportunity just because we keep watching the closed door behind