From different journeys

I travel backwards even as the rest of the train flees
in the opposite direction. The man in the opposite

seat lets a newspaper fall. We pick it up from
different journeys, fingers briefly touching. I tell

myself the earth is a sphere, the horizon is my orbit.
I will arrive where he arrives, sooner or later. Some

people traverse yesterdays better than they ford
tomorrows. The train lingers at stations. The sepia

dust dances in a light beam of failure. Mirrors still
reflect the pink regret of long ago. What if creation

had made us before it made time? What would love be
then – at this station that is both the next one and the

previous, in this moment that has passed and is still
occurring, in this vector along which I have moved and

am still waiting? I watch the man leave, the paper
under his arm, understanding and still not knowing.

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39 thoughts on “From different journeys

  1. So much to love and ponder upon in this poem especially; “Mirrors still reflect the pink regret of long ago. What if creation had made us before it made time?” 💖💖💖

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  2. AH, such a journey and its many encounters have an indelible impact on us — your thoughtful narrative of life is always compelling. There are many evocative snippets here, from some people traversing “yesterdays better” to the understanding of it all “and still not knowing”.
    All the journeys lead to one towards the end perhaps. Such an intriguing write!

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  3. I enjoy train journeys, Rajani: the scenery and people watching; the suspension in time; the freedom to just sit and read while the world goes by. You’ve captured much of that in this poem. I especially like:
    ‘…We pick it up from
    different journeys, fingers briefly touching’
    and
    ‘… Some
    people traverse yesterdays better than they ford
    tomorrows.’

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  4. This reminds me of a Mexican Train Joke that once was printed in our old Houston Post, now merged with the Houston Chronicle. The writer, Leon Hale, wrote it in his column and I believe he had no malice or prejudice in mind when he wrote it. Here goes, written originally in first tense:
    He was going into Mexico from a border station. When he presented his ticket the conductor said that he could not board. Why not? “This is yesterday’s train, your ticket is for today’s train.”
    “When can I catch today’s train for my ticket?”
    “It will probably be in tomorrow.”

    ..

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  5. Very interesting deep questions and play with time. There is a possibility of multiple time dimensions so it might be possible to be in the next and previous moment. I love the line ” The sepia dust dances in a light beam of failure.”

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  6. Such an excellent analogy.. the train the journey, our own and those of fellow travellers, so often not going in the same direction or arriving at the same destination.

    Some
    people traverse yesterdays better than they ford
    tomorrows.

    This is so true.

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  7. Very interesting, this oscillating back and forth. Love the line : “I tell / myself the earth is a sphere, the horizon is my orbit.” and also ” Some / people traverse yesterdays better than they ford / tomorrows.”

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  8. I resonate with “some people traverse yesterdays better than they ford tomorrows.” Love the wise perspective in this poem. I hope your book is doing well, Rajani. You are very talented and deserve a wide audience.

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  9. Adjusting to change is not easy. I don’t walk down yesterday street much except to share memory stories with someone. Change is the only constant we can trust.

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  10. Humans are unfortunate amongst creatures that consider and judge their own lives rather than just live and enjoy them whenever possible. We are a faulty species that are a danger to others and ourselves. The strangest thing is we don’t even realize it.

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  11. “I will arrive where he arrives, sooner or later. ”

    Interesting that with all the to-ing and fro- ing in whichever direction there is a common destination at some point in time, inevitable.

    Again an interesting serving from you, Rajani

    Much❤love

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  12. I like to sit where I can see the dust dance in the sunbeams, although I keep trying for no dust. This poem makes me see it as possibility, despite “light beam of failure.” The questions are perfect. We need to reach out and pick up the paper, to risk touching fingers across time. Thank you for the poem!

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