Mr. Bojangles,
Contemplates the angles.
Modern minds infinitely entangle
Simple strings and fluid streams of thoughts
Are getting ******* in knots
Not in a naughty way, but in a party state
Where people get to tell the time to clocks
Skipping rocks
Across the surface tension, in your office
Chip your dips in the swivel chair in the corner there
Please
Excuse me
While I try to explain to these birds why they’re not free
On a wing and a prayer flag TV set
And I always forget to mention what’s relevant.

Time spent traveling is time wisely spent,
hours are filled with enriching experiences
and soul-searching moments

my morning trip to San Diego was such...
my eyes feasted on a blue-green ocean,
with daring surfers atop cresting waves;
and then there were my fellow farers...

the atmosphere inside the Amtrak
was a mix of moods...of voices of folks...
silent ones slept the whole trip...several,
had coffee and bread, while reflecting...
some were already working ahead of time,
giving instructions via their mobile phones...
a few were smiling, taking life positively,
maybe, dwelling on pleasant memories;
others wore serious faces...in deep thought,
maybe thinking of love's and life's unfairness,
sad realities they leave behind each morning,
the same ones they go home to each night.

boarding a train is one chapter,
getting off is another.....the platform is
where situations end, or, a fresh start awaits:
new job, a family...finding one's self somewhere,
ending a relationship...moving on when a loved
one dies...drifters are ever, "just passing through,"
they go....wherever the train takes them...

trips are inward journeys...the hours open
and clear our minds, leaving realizations
and wiser perspectives over nagging issues
we shun...or, defy; we try to change what
can be changed in our lives...and accept
with peace...what...cannot be changed...

we are on a journey...we are farers all,
...........in this train...called life...


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 5, 2019

To the unlikely Amtrak ride
the one with people
acting like cartoons.

With an announcer
over the intercom
smushing words together--
saying we'll arrive in Lodi
and then in blah blah location.

To the conductor
whom
speaks to us as children,
because to him
we look like long time
traveling companions.

He plays with our
destinations
and notices that we're going
to two different locations.

We've only known
each other existed from
the 30 minutes we rode
side by side on the bus before the train.  

No matter the time.
We've become limited-less
as it was too easy to speak
and impossible to stop.  

All the truths
we've shared will never be gone
the moment just as we felt in it
can never truly come to an end.
As long as the train keeps moving
our moment will forever trek on.

Even after I have left the ride
and you've finally fallen aleep
without my company to stir you awake.

It may never happen again
just like the dreams you're having
right this moment.
But least we came to speak
for the shortest
of train rides.