With mechanical portals known to be doors
That either lead to different worlds or take you home,
These cabled vehicles like tunnels on wheels fastened on a railroad track
Stretch to both ends of the universe under a single route.
And as you get in for closure,
You put your trust on the obscure.

Just say the magic words;
It will take you anywhere you wish to be.
Even though magic always comes with a prize,
The only cost are countable units of your time
And also a few dimes,
In return for the travel of your life.

Across the carpeted walkway of reaching out,
Through the glass windows of visible silver lining,
Behind the blank and arid faces that lure the soul to sink in deep wonder,
The lights and skyscrapers, and mist silhouetting the scenery,
All appear in bokeh, all blend in your eyes;
Your eyes that glow brighter than fire on ice.

The coldness lashing perennially on your skin
And shaking your bones to its final breakage,
Couldn't beat the absolute zero amity between these strangers.
But your fascination has enough radiation
To melt the tip of the iceberg
And shine over what's behind their opaque walls.

Settled on the plastic seats that serve as time machines,
They nestle between unfamiliar bodies;
Static, in a state of inertia.
Blocking out force, resisting change;
Like cars stuck on parking mode,
Couldn't bring themselves to unload.

Grasping on loose handles
With a grip more secure than seat-belts,
Some tend to pull away despite of the constant push.
Like engines on reverse, they take time to backtrack.
For all we know, for every action,
Is an equal and opposite reaction.

The brakes hit; there goes a screeching sound.
But when it comes to a break, we don't really hang back
Or fall to a complete stop;
We only slide forward.
For we must keep moving ahead,
In order to keep our balance.

The portals once again unlock to let you out to the open galaxy
And let in another for the same adventure.
You've reached the end of the trip,
But not the end of the road; nor the destination.
For the journey is infinite; you know you are going to ride again and again,
Until you've run out of wishes of where you want to be where.

Initially everything seems to be clear in mind with regards to what needs to be done at the present moment in time, since steps are there to follow.

Step by step one step at a time.
One by one, only one step at a time.
Every step that is reached upon gets registered in the mind with the next step to follow.

Definitely a moment in time will come when destination will be reached,
however, later on it’s realized that destination is part of what’s there in mind while steps are part of the present moment in time.

In one way or other,
in some way for sure,
what seems to be there at the present moment in time in the present is not what seems to be going on in mind.

Twists and turns are part of life and life is not that simple as it was thought to be in the mind, initially at the first instance itself.

Over a period of time it’s understood, realized, agreed and accepted that with experience many things change in life, however, there are certain things in life that remain the same as they are,
as they were,
a few amongst them are as follows.

A few things are difficult to learn and at the same time a few things that you know are quite difficult to explain.
A few things are difficult to adhere to, but if not done will lead to and result in chaos and confusion while in the present with regards to future.
A few things are difficult to know,
initially at first instance itself,
but still the mind remains firm,
makes a clear resolution that at all cost I will know and learn this new thing of which I have got something at the back of my mind.

Amongst everything and all that you know,
one thing remains clear for sure,
where there is a will there is a way,
make a way of your own and if that’s not possible,
then find one.

Interesting are the ways of life when it seems that things will fall in place,
but then it takes much more time than what’s required by them initially to fall in there respective places and then to follow them with regards to what's next that needs to be done.

Most of the time the desire to achieve success in life is not greater than the drive that is gathered in mind over a period of time,
success then becomes a part of life and life seems beautiful.
Definitely, where there is a will there is a way.

what forests are those we pass,
blazing along the railway tracks,
a tree bloom of still cranes,
stream black of ******* bane,

stench of dead city rubble,
factories of rusted cast metal,
distant cotton twilight skies,
sun slide across a bunch of wires,    

passing tunnels echo
lonely platforms, frantic gecko,
looming hillside,
crackle dry wood fire,

a god barred in lock&key, 
blink glimpse of the sea 
one rush of vision,
pebble fling at frisson,

metal-crunch rhythm,
grind music sublime,
spark, grunt, grate,
we arrive, we dissipate...

The train halts
For the people to alight;
And I, faraway,
Find ways to **** the night.
I take out my diary and a pen
To jot down all that I feel then.

The train halts.
And with several others, I get down
To freshen up with a cup of tea.
A thought keeps lingering within me;
I keep seeking ways to be happy; but
Happiness is what I (wish to) have and what I wish to be.

And with this honest, humble thought,
Hoots the train, I hear.
Asking me to get back,
For my destination is near.
Yet, my journey of life has lots to see,
And she wants me to be back on track.

A tiredness has seeped into my bones
My arms and legs are so heavy, they feel like stones
Can hardly keep my eye's open, they keep drifting closed
Not a good thing driving ninety down the road

Should I pull over, or just press on
Maybe I'll end up on the families lawn
Or drift off and hit a tree
Make a gory mess of me

Either one sounds just fine
Wonder what the morning light will find
What will be my final devastation
I speed up to find out which will be my final destination

The chill in the frigid night air
casts tremors of lingering shadows
upon an ancient windowsill
where a liquescent candle’s glow dims.

Peering into shattered mirrors’
silver hued jagged edges
that no longer reflect counterfeit images
a nascent paradigm unfurls in the wind.

Terrifying diminutive steps are taken
in directions au courant
enabled by years of refinement
in torrid near incessant fires.

An excrescence of wisdom
has broken the weathered mold
allowing a senescent wisdom
to shimmer a phosphorescent glow.

The venerable map leading
to this transcendent destination
is not read but perceived
through intuition’s faint whisperings.

©2015 janetaylor