Shinkansen: a poem for Charles

In fond memory of Charles Ramsden

Now, as you board your train

may you be met by

all the ghosts we have known,

those that follow us,

those that give us hope in our weary nights,

those that keep us together,

those who follow us, silent,

into the darkest reaches of our souls,

those who keep our forgotten memories warm

close to them,

may you be met by fellow travellers,

may you speed through the fields of England,

the heartland of Holland

 – which is not about

clichés like windmills and flowers

but a never-ending

fight to keep the devastating

sea of drowning

at bay –

the long rolling hills of Provence,

the forests of fall in New England,

the plains of Japan.

Fellow wanderer,

find your way home,

in the comfort of the Orient Express

at the speed of the Shinkansen,

find peace,

find the light,

while those who wait at the station,

queuing up to buy our own tickets

for that one inescapable journey

look forward,

with confidence,

as we bless that cross,

piercing forward,

into the starry night.