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2010 Poetry Challenge

National Poetry Month



John Willowdown

Miracle Train........Duet with Maryse Achong

The driver on the Miracle Train used to be a bum
that lived on my street
but now he's smart and always neat.
You would hardly think it was the same person.
The ticket collector on the Miracle Train
used to be a crack addict
that lived in the same town as my Aunt Ada.
"He never spoke to anyone or if he did was always gruff
but now he is a perfect gentleman," she told me
I asked her how he got the position
and where the Miracle Train went to... "

“It goes from here to paradise,
Its farthest stop is hell,
and those who have survived the trip
And heard that warning bell
Can never be the same again,
A change comes from within,
They’ve been allowed just one more chance
To play Life’s game and win.
So they do whatever it takes
To right the wrongs they’ve done,
And they must serve time on that train
From dawn to setting sun."

"The Miracle Train passes through many stations,
mundane, metaphorical and metaphysical.
You can step down anywhere you please
but, take care, should you change your mind
and turn around intending to reboard
the Miracle Train may not still be there...
it has many stations to call at
and a strict schedule to keep.
When the guard blows his whistle
take your seat and hang on to your hat.
As for the ticket collector
he paid his earthly dues
and now he's serving out his time,
seeing to the Miracle Train's passengers,
come sunshine, showers, sleet or rain
-though I do hear as how not every
passenger necessarily has a ticket:
some holy hobos travel free
but that's no concern of thee and me.
In life some folks like to cheat and gamble,
others are born to just naturally ramble,
witnessing the glories of God's great creation
which is as much a work of art and recreation
as a thing of scientific complexification
and sometimes only sacred fools or
what the blind world mistakenly calls losers
have eyes innocent and pure enough to see it
- one can travel an awful long way by gracce,
sitting on the roof of the train
with the wind and sunlight on one's face."

“Blessed are those who mourn,” He taught
The clean of heart, the poor,
And some of these are gifted with
The key to that great door
Which when it is thrown open wide
Gives them a wondrous view
Of the marvels of the Master
And sometimes they pass through.
But others who have missed this chance
Must work on Life’s great train
Until they have paid all their dues
And can go home again.

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