Through the window of a train

Train to train
like jealous lovers in the rain
They bow and kiss
and greet the darkened sky
Grey blue
soon dissolve
leave remnants
of their tears
nestled in the morning dew
of crimson greens and golden hue
In everything they live…
in everyone they die…
Ten are born anew…
without a cry
silently
until the seeds burst… for can anyone or anything
ever fill the thirst
but Love?..
Can anyone taste grace
or just feel feel its touch
invisible
upon your skin…
that leaves you refreshed…
to face the day or foe again…
A plane is nothing but a train that flies…
and you may gain speed
but you miss all the beauty
Trains were made for everyone
even though in olden days
mostly elites…
Through the windows of a train
you can feel my heart beat…

Silhouettes of maple leaves
shine on a velvet green lawn
moving over me like the never ending
hand of grace
dark clouds foreboding in the sky
trickles of rain
I feel a chill
even in my yellow soft cashmere v-neck sweater
my layers of clothes grey green red gold
warm my skin
but my ears are still cold…

I greet this blissful morning
face the unknown of my life
A swell of wetness brushes across me
A violet pansy erupts UN noticed
its splendor decorates the
wave of joy that sweeps me into bliss
the beauty of the landscape beckons me
yearns to be acknowledged

You are woven of the grace of Galaxies
created out of tenderness… inspiration
and settle in a calm sea of solitude.
Today your lesson is the view
through the train window on
The Watercress Line
a standard-gauge heritage steam railway…
running over ten miles of steeply-graded scenic track
in mid-Hampshire, England.
brushing Ropley… .Alton andArlesford…
from a tea shop across the street from Jane Austen’s
house… I commune with the land…
I walk Jane’s gardens and she is not in
but her spirit is there…
As the gardener puts out some food to feed the birds…
Jane Austen ….Wow and I stood a few days ago in the room Kipling wrote If within and I am jazzed… invigorated
Thank you God bless…

I look at the world through the window of a train…
A Steam train…
God it is gorgeous…
Soft winds blow green leaves on gnarled twisted branches
in a September serenade…
I see
An oak tree in a freshly cut field where my friend Roy eats lunch
when he is
Clearing the embankment…
the countryside opens up…
Sings its melodies in carpets of colors
Even the clouds and dark skies dance
in the celestial light
move in and out of shadows…
Hampshire is wild with grass
The engines are big and shiny in the shed…
I read a poem my friend’s mother wrote when she was 12
about her dog
and it touched me…
Poetry is everywhere in the air
In this living painting.
smells of the garden
flowers and plants
an old tulip tree is fighting for survival
towering over me…
Through the windows of train.
The cows straddle the wire fence and stick their heads through
unruffled by all the fuss The sheep so sweetly still
in the gentle falling rain
magnificent through the window of a train

© Stephen John Kalinich 2008

This poem was originally featured in:

The Heritage Railway magazine issue 116 in 2008