Here I come to a halt <br />At the closed doorstep <br />Of the level crossing <br />On my daily path. <br /> <br />From the ashes <br />Of the driver’s seat <br />I rise like a Phoenix <br />And in no time get lost in the remains <br />Of a drowsy past. <br /> <br />There, I delicately felt <br />The dry petals of a red rose, <br />The clumsy lines of a crumpled love-letter, <br />And broken smiles of a pair of white lips <br />Pronouncing a few unintelligible <br />Alphabet at the parting time. <br /> <br />And I lend my anxious ears <br />To the dying echo of her <br />Receding footsteps overtaking me <br />During a heavy moment. <br /> <br />I also remember <br />How I pitied all and sundry <br />Who hastened to console me, <br />For they claimed to decipher <br />The language of my tears silently flowing <br />From the Gangotri of my eyes. <br /> <br />Here I wake up <br />On hearing the deafening honk <br />And metallic commotion <br />Of throbbing automobiles at my back, <br />As the level crossing opens <br />Before my eyes.<br /><br />R.K Das<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-level-crossing/
