I stumble over a stone
 and stupidly instead of
 looking at the ground  
 I  see in the sky nothing
 is at static except me 
who stand still, I decided 
when I was a young   not
 to run or wait for a train
 rather the train would  
wait for me, those trains
 have  moved fast but 
 I remain behind, now 
I wait for trains but they 
do not come, where have
 they gone and why? 
Motion with out purpose? 
 lighter things move fast, 
 fast moving clouds are 
soothing to eyes,  heaver
 things more or  less static, 
 heaver and static clouds
 give more rain than the
 fast moving. i ponder 
and become grim like 
dark cloud.                
I decided when I was a child not to run or wait for a train rather the train would wait for me, those trains have moved fast but I remain behind, now I wait for trains but they do not come, where have they gone and why? ... different and real! ! !
Motion without purpose. But I think there is that we are not able to know. I like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well that shows life is not to stop but to go on..............................I remember the saying sometimes we miss the open windows of opportunity just because we keep watching the closed door behind