Morning Train

November 14, 2010 Morning Train

And as you finish reading,
those postcards from far away,
you’ll lay your cranium in the clouds,
the ones north of your heart.

You’ll reach for the Sun,
and turn it into the Moon.
They said you couldn’t change time,
outside the universe you call your room.

And suddenly, yes suddenly,
you begin to remember, forever remember,
you’re scheduled to board the Morning Train.
Rubbing the golden edges of your ticket,
closing your eyes, blowing the whistle on your chain.

All aboard, the Morning Train Express,
all aboard, where dreams roll tonight into today.
All aboard, fall asleep in your velvet seat,
all aboard, where will the postcards lead us tonight?

You roll in your bed to defeat the fear in your heart,
you roll down the window in your coach, its beautiful out there.
“Raise the breaks, no time to lose,” conductors are quite impatient,
What’s the rush? I left my watch at the station.

You hear a chord from the middle of the piano,
Trains rolling now, let the postcards lead the way,
back to the writer who lives far far away.
Stay calm, though its exciting, don’t roll off the bed.

There goes the Sun knowing it arrived to work late,
creeping over the hills hoping the world won’t be irate.
You organize fireflies, behind the window, with your finger,
making them carry the alarm clock away or break the ringer.

Tags: Collecting, Dreams, Fireflies, Insomnia, Postcard, Recreation, sun

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