The Night Train Called Life

She had a pale skin, set off by shiny black hair, and dark, troubled eyes. And then those eyes, searching and eloquent, met mine.

A million faces. Two million eyes. Yet she was the one. Those were the eyes.

The train was slowing down. Its rhythmic beats resonating with your heartbeat, slowing down, pounding harder.

The dim yellow glow from platform lamps fought the inky blackness, keeping it at bay, illuminating her; bathing her in that golden river of light. The wind was playing with her hair. Each curl being gently caressed. You wish you were the wind; the wind beneath her wings.

The train came to a halt. They don’t lie; these moments do make it come to a standstill. Your heart wants to jump onto the platform. Sadly, it was inside your body, transfixed, like your gaze. You wish it weren’t. Brain tries reasoning; reason fades when you live within the poem. Your soul is being ripped apart between them. She could be one that solves the puzzle; me.

Restrain. Did you even possess all your pieces? Relinquish. Only so much you could take. Heart wins. Trembling, you edge towards the door; an year old toddler stumbling into mommy’s hands. That same warmth emanates from the dimly lit platform, all around her, from within her.

Past, present and future seems to have disappeared. Time begins to fade, memories emerge from the darkness. You are ceasing to exist. ‘We’ are being brought to life. This is that oft talked about moment.

Take a deep breath, take yet another step.

Then a deep rumble cuts through us. The train has started to crawl. You could jump off now, but will you ever get back on the train? A light gust shifts the yellow leaves on the platform, tugs at your heartstrings.

Heart, “Is it even worth continuing on the train, when you could start afresh? A new journey. Together.”

You take another step towards the door.

Brain, “ You could lose your momentum. You might lose all that you have now. You will be nothing. Nothing.”

Soul froze. So did you.

The train picks up speed.

You feel the tremble. You hear the screeching. You strain your neck. You see her one last time before the darkness snatch her away from your gaze.

You let her go. You let her fly believing she wasn’t meant to be caged. Or were you caged and did you just throw away your key; her?

Reminiscence. Maybe she was better off not solving you. Maybe she would not have been interested in solving you. Maybe she… Maybe. You will never know and it is a good thing, for you will always remember her. Her eyes, dark and troubled, those were the eyes. She was the one.

I prefer to keep hoping and dreaming, and looking out of the window, up and down that lonely platform, waiting……….