The doors slide open to engulf me
in a yawning concrete pit
Someone rushes past me
running, in such a hurry.
What’s with the rush, I say
The elevator’s empty.
Escalators moving on their own
The trains will come eventually
There’s no need to hurry
A little late is acceptable.//
The going down is silent
Not a person in sight.
Except for the one who went first.
I descend into the shallow bowels
of the earth encased in slabs
of marble and concrete and technology.
A person in the ticket booth
A cleaner bent on his job
Tucked in that corner’s a man.
A police man, no doubt.
No rush, no sound, then a rumble
That giant snake I call the train comes far below!
I walk down the moving stairs,
Aye, and the descend is even drearier
On that platform the place is deserted
except for a very few
We are spaced out, scattered
Only united by that one single goal
To ride into the flow of life
and go on with it
to wherever we need to go.//
Alighting the train, I find my seat
My nook in the corner, far from prying eyes
or clutching the cold posts
or balancing on two balls of my feet
Sometimes the track is in a dark tunnel,
never knowing where it leads
Sometimes the view is stunning
and the path is crystal clear
And I find myself floating,
in the here and there, and no more
no use staring at the tracks passed by
or of the station we’ve left behind
Onwards we go, and so must we
The train keeps on moving
And it goes back, on a loop
on a loop
back and forth
goes in both direction.
Oh there’s my stop!
