I am on a train,
though I know not how I arrived.
Was I born here? Or brought aboard
sometime before my first memory?
It’s been a long ride and my hair is greying,
my memories of long-ago riders dimming.
I have taken many side tracks,
spurred on by ambition and love,
but mostly by curiosity.
What adventures await a traveler
down this route? Or that one?
But always I found my way back to the main line,
where people boarded, strangers mostly,
some who became friends, our lives entwined
down the same track until ambition,
love, curiosity separated us.
A few disembarked long before their time,
always my gaze turning to the passing scenery
to still an aching heart.
It seems the train has slowed these past years
as contentment drove out ambition,
as love found its home in friendship,
and curiosity fed discoveries closer to home.
One day, I too will take my leave of this train,
too old to disembark young.
