On Trains and Swimming

When neatly the trains align at the final destination of a tiring working day’s agony

smoothly floating on rampaged rails into the hopeless home harbor-

When no one’s watching their night sky dance, blind passengers and smoke,
when the agitated heart of the lonesome traveller rests from fulfilling one of life’s quests
When the silver fish glide through the water each finding their niche in the light rails of the sea-
When shimmering fins touch the glittering water bodies and the silent sound forms bubbles in my ear-
When the restless traveller arrives at home she pulls her anonymous hat off her crown to bend down and unlace her metal boots-
Then when his feet touch the malleable white marble soft like the surface of the pool,

the floor hugs his feet,

cradles them to sleep,

until they weep

for their mother’s soft bosom

like a baby- so lonesome

When the sound of the engine drowns in the density of water molecules-
When my eyes cannot help but closing their blinds-
When the hypnotizing humming sedates every last traveller’s saddened soul
When the train reaches the Northernmost pole and the sleepy eyes awake just in time for the bistro’s breakfast cake
When the head breaks through the surface gasping for air awaking from a dreamy haze forgetting where to direct a refreshing new gaze at the strokes that lie ahead turning her back to all the layers that had to be shed

This is the point where heaven meets hell

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