A Backward Glance

Through the window of the train
The hills shift
Gliding away and
Yawning into a slightly bent horizon
Extending and disappearing into a thin line
Where the sea kisses the azure sky
Everything moves
Except my longing to stay

The trees brush across
Every now and then
Sweeping every wild imagination
That conjures itself
Upon the canvas of my mind
A myriad of confusion
I miss…
Will I be missed in return

In a continuous random beat
In an undulating rhythm
Before snaking into the belly of the next hill
The core of heaviness
The centre of dark memories
My heart faints
Sinking deep in this inconceivable bottled pain
Pulsating within the lines of a fractured porcelain

An over-stretched spring
Has no returning to its beginning
The only connection I have
Is in this railroad
That tracks into the past
It tucks away the creases and unwanted folds
All hidden in this tunnelled blackness
A pot of Indian ink smeared on my path

The scream from the train echoes
In the canyon of my soul
A chasm created since the wind stirs the desert sea
Bellowing through the fumes
Dry and insatiable
Depositing every residue of muted words
Picking up every tangible grain

I try to grip the ray of hope at the other end
Must every light ahead cast a shadow in a backward glance


Inspired by the title of a song and based on the experience of the daily train commute, written in 2000.