Train Ramblings: a poem

I am writing a poem, but where to begin?

Start from the outside and work my way in?

A head full of hair, golden brown,

Strong eyes, small nose, full lips all my own.

Straight shoulders, long body but short enough to snuggle,

Under the arms of the one I most love to cuddle.

I seem to be inside already, the bit that means the most,

For, the soul is already outpouring from the body that is its host.

The heart rules over head in this case,

So with the heart I’ll begin to uncover and trace, the internal.

If I am a soul and we are eternal, what make we of love?

Is it a feeling of the Earth or from ‘higher above’?

If we love one another and believe in soul-mates,

Will we both meet again at the Golden Gates?

How much we invest in our love, life, success,

Moving up to my brain that strives to be the best.

When we all lead our own paths of fate,

And hold the pen of the story we create,

Thus, competition means nothing and jealousy should sublimate,

Knowing these human conditions are not real yet slightly innate.

Grown into them as we age in order to survive,

Let me make it better than yours so I stay alive.

A redundant thought to say the least,

How can a pen write if not focused on the sheet.

A blank piece of paper has room for mistakes,

So the ending of your story is in perfect state,

But to lose sight of the story is a misfortune because,

How much time can we afford to waste looking at others?

 

The Earth is small in relation to the universe,

Yet beauty and wonder in every corner bursts,

Just like the soul in relation to the body, others humans and Earth,

When we look inside who knows what we’ll unearth.

The measure of success lies within you,

Only you know if you’re fulfilling your spirit in all you do.

 

And as for the question of love – in the heart or soul?

Whatever it is, it is real and it glows.

Without unconditional love what else do we have to give?

Love after all is our greatest gift.

 

As I look through my eyes and look onto this page,

My train has come to its end and I must continue onto the next stage.

Life.

poem

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