Journey On Iron Wheels Poem by Soumita Sarkar

They lead to destinations
To end our expectations
They are low and high
to grow and slowly die
Poor walk on country mud
washed during storm or flood
Dirty when almost lost
Dark when riches host
Crossed at many ways
Linked with lanes, bays
Flyovers talk more
in city and metros
Yet some have manholes
Puddles and broken poles
In monsoon they open up
to show teeth and tub
Avenues with trees on sides
Lanes with cemented highs
To go over the river
To crawl and rise higher
To cross a forest beneath
In layers of serpent wreath
Lined by the sandy coast
Moving out of a tunnel ghost
Almost the small toy on range
Or the fastest steel arrange
Sole alternative in sky
Wings on metal to fly
Still many of us book our seat
To relax and our dears to meet
The music it brings to joy
Old and middle become schoolboy
And the journey is much comfort
Along the eagerness not inert
Always the saying goes
The path is always close
to heart than the end at it unfolds
miles and miles of wait so bold