Walking On The Railway Tracks Of Life Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

We walk on the slippers, one by one,
All on a way day by day, for like
Trains we run endlessly, and only
Rest when the darkness creeps in,
On this long journey that ends,
When the train reaches the edge of,
The water for the Pacific is far,
From the Atlantic just as the India,
Ocean is Far from the Atlantic,
Even though they touch and pour,
Water into and away from each
Other.

Still the railway tracks call, for
You see one stanza marked by each
Slipper, that is laid and walk not
Knowing, what lies round the corner,
For you are heading onward on a train,
That never goes backwards, the way it
Came.

I have tried to live life, walking
backwards the way I felt, when I first
Rode in someone's car, and saw all
Trees going backwards and thought,
I had a story to tell my friends,
Who just looked at naive me and wished,
I would take my countryside ignorance
Away from their place. I walked
Backwards and tripped on a small
Clump of grass, and felt lucky that
These clumps though everywhere,
Only chose to make me fall, where
There was no stone. For this I
Salute life for it chooses, what to
Feed me for if I was fed on clods of dirt
Everyone knows I would choke, on
This walk which I have taken with
My eyes closed, so I can see only
The lines on my hands, for I have
Chosen selective thinking, for I
Am afraid of the world and its
Scandalous happenings.

The journey continues, for I did
Not choose when to start and cannot
Choose when it ends, so like a hoe
Working on weeds in the hands of
A hard worker, this farmer who knows
No time, we plod along in the heat, and
Rain unstoppable energy, pushing so
I can keep at it, whether I like it
Or not, like a poet pouring words on
The ears of the deaf, for she will stop
The day you say enough is enough, for
We will hear no more, for everything
is alright. Every crease has been ironed,
On these rail tracks that go at gradients
Known only to the maker of railways flat,
Even on hillsides dangerous. Plod along,
For all us must, on this train till it
Stops, to get a refill on a stomach, that
Will take no more, for it will have been
Undone by time.