At this unearthly hour
of three hours
past midnight,

the distant whistle
of the passing train
stirs me, …….a dream wakes up.

The night is dark and deep
…..but melancholy
despite the luminosity,

of the million stars,
the cryptic silence
typical of three am s,

and the accompanying chill
remind me,
…that I am lonely.

The whistle of the
passing train
juggles so much inside,

the churning draws to surface
a strange tranquility
an inexplicable joy.

Its unique melody
floats for sometime
then it fades,

only to resurface,
again to submerge
in the prevailing silence,

but I can hear
and also feel
the shudder,

of its thick
metallic wheels
……trailing by.

The vibrations
evoking
latent emotions,

the magic lasts
however
for some measured moments,

as the melody of the whistle
gets faint
…….fainter,

waving at me,
and lisping: see you again
…..never give up!


*******

Chhavi Anupam

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-whistle-of-the-passing-train/