A constant day dream
always a moving train
it’s rhythm pulsating
windows rattling past
an unconscious world;
A cloudless night descends
dissolved in its silence
stars raining in
your head tucked out
the wind shouting past your skin
the sky moving at an incline
knees tucked to your hearts embrace
arms wrapped around
as if holding years of yearning
like a blanket for warmth.
There is a song
fighting to pierce through your soul,
it’s hands grasping
an intangible possession of attraction
always the prelude
to the first verse of a song -
mystery of love by sufjan stevens
playing endlessly, on a record.
Now imagine her voice
it’s quest - a pilgrimage, a rescue
echoes of time passing through
like lines of electricity above a moving train
and long into the distance
inside the darkness
an amber beacon glows
the shadow of your past
meeting
the light of your future.
The world, still boundless
solitude emptying in
mountains of hope,
Once again, her voice whispers
hold your hope
hold this verse
in your wrist
follow the tracks of time
take the train
to where I’m hiding
and until then, let the quiet night
engulf the rest of you
entirely.
