Fast Moving Train

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I wanted to dance in the rain,

stop feeling the pain,

that was deep in my heart.

Should have known right from the start,

while burning those bridges behind me,

that perhaps there would be a time,

some footsteps needed to be retraced.

Life moved on like a speeding train,

giving me no chance,

to stop to catch my breath.

I wanted to still roam about,

find what else my heart was seeking,

but then while peeking,

round the bend,

they said the train,

waited for no one,

it was my last chance,

to get onboard.

The train was in the station,

the station called life,

I was told there was no more time,

but something told me,

there would still be other trains,

other stations with awesome names,

like Passiondale

and Love so true.

It was then that I knew,

time was still on my side.

I was still the keeper of my own time,

still able to walk,

along in my own rhythm.

There would still be,

a life full of fun,

full of good things,

that would bring,

plenty of memories.

So when they tell you,

the last train is leaving,

make sure you are believing,

because you leave a lot of living behind.

Remember that there is still,

the child that remains inside,

the one that gives you,

the courage to go on.

You’ll still be running,

beneath that summer sun,

dancing along with the wind,

loving with passion,

so let that express train,

let that local,

pass you by.

They are not there for you yet,

to take you to the sky.

Love what you do,

love just for the sake of loving,

dance and romance

and find a way to open the door,

that you once closed behind,

find those precious memories,

that keep you going on

and will lead you to the pathway,

to your heart’s desire.

 

 

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About Rasma R

I live in Riga, Latvia. I was born in N.Y.C. Love to write articles and poetry. Instruct people in the English language. Live in the suburbs with my husband Martin and my wonderful cat Sid. I love rock and roll, cooking, reading, poetry and traveling.
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2 Responses to Fast Moving Train

  1. Hooray for listening to the inner child. Often so much smarter than other voices…

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