Between Train Tracks

I am a weary traveler, worn out by the winds,
Walking in the narrow gap between steel lines,
Holding dear to them as if to a lifeline,
And maybe for once in his life, I was right.

The train of my past had pushed me out,
The train of my future had departed before I could board
And I stood, a lonely traveler, between tracks,
Trying to bring myself to the present, this eludes me.

So with nothing to do and nowhere to go,
I look around at the world which has made a choice,
To turn the tables, every time I get lucky,
To frown if life gets kind to me, which she rarely did.

The world did seemed beautiful, though ironically,
For it was not my world, and mine was in turmoil,
The contrast was glaring, so glaring that I looked down,
At the train tracks where I had been standing for a while.

Looking down on these tracks either way,
They meet in the distance, on both sides,
Though where I stood, they looked otherwise,
They ran parallel, which geometrically would never meet.

Maybe life was telling me something,
Maybe what I felt was separation, isn’t really so,
Maybe it was just a parallel journey we had to take,
Maybe to be together in the distant future... like those tracks.

So with my long list of optimistic maybes,
I have started walking into the east,
To find a life, that lies beyond those mountains,
Those mountains behind which the sun rises everyday...