The Train’s a StageA Poem by Nayan
I felt like Shakespeare when he wrote "...Life's a Stage". I felt the same drawing resemblances from the train to a stage!
As Seconds tick and Minutes cross,
Hours fade and Nights fall,
I see my destination approaching,
Midst the green fields and hairy trees,
Yellow flowers with the poppy seeds.
The lines cross, zigzagging through
Villages and bridges, and the mushroom grew,
Along the tracks ’which the rails ran,
Brushing the winds, as fast as they can!
Stops arrive and the passengers change,
The vehicle called train seems so strange!
A bust of air and the windows open,
Few particles of dust and the eyes water,
Homage to the land, he pays as a token,
And others chatter, while the wastes scatter.
One goes and another comes,
Same is the train, and the journey’s the same!
The actor goes and the actor comes,
Same is the stage, and the play’s the same!
5:15 PM, Sat, 3rd Oct ’09
Patna-Secunderabad Express Train
[Till the ‘Itarsi’ station, signed at the station]
© 2010 Nayan
Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh, India
AboutHello, I am Nayan from India. I love Poetry, Philosophy, Photography and Music; and want Goodwill to mankind! I get astonished every moment at the marvels of science and space... Let me travel.. more..