by Zartaj Kamran Khan
A warm yellow beam that glimmers,
Hits my watch and repeatedly flickers.
Shattering shards of light through glass,
Disperses into little flowers into the cabin class.
I see the trees swish and swoop,
Just like a magical acrobatic troupe.
The tracks seem endless, like the back of my mind,
Defenseless and fragile, like a child left behind.
The dark green velvety interior, is rather overwhelming
Like the depth of the ocean, extremely condescending.
The young girl across me, full of youth and ambition,
Is also on her journey, looking forward with no inhibition.
She radiates an energy, so positive and strong,
Creating a vibration, as if she were a cannonball.
An old couple, sitting still,
Yearning for time to transform them into daffodils.
And daffodils, they rise and shine,
Like the disciplined and purposeful, trains of time.
Trains of time, that unconditionally serve,
Years after years, with no complains or radical swerves.
These machines have lives more purposeful than us,
But what matters most is that we humans have the ability to trust.
Trust in things that do not seem true, this is life my friend,
Truly like a train charging through the foggy mist of blue.