Train Station

Our 3-day SW camp ended last Friday.
I had a long rest from 6pm+ on Fri till 11am the next day..

The body was rested,
but the heart was still heavy, the mind, weary.
So I went to the airport this afternoon,
just to spend some time alone.

In a myriad of people
coming and going,
laughing and crying,
of open arms & closed embrace

I sat still in one corner
Watching the world pass by
Unfolding scenes
before my eyes

I scribbled, pen to paper
of feelings, thoughts, and thanks
and while I started on them
I found I could not end

So I ate a little,
walked around silently
And spent my time
In quiet soliloquy

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Everytime I get to the airport's train station,
I feel compelled to take a snap of it..
I wrote the following poem below two years ago
After a trip to the airport.

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The Liminal Space

Written on: 20th May 2005 (Friday)

The liminal space is the area of transition,
the in-between of 'here' and 'there'
Where everyone is a mere passer-by,
leaving behind no worries nor cares

The airport is such a place,
where people arrive and depart
Lingering for a moment or two before
separating amidst kisses and hugs

I used to go there alone in my teenage years,
when I was troubled & needed rest
It was my escapism,
my refuge from life's occasional stresses

It felt like a different dimension
where time seems to stop,
Allowing me to take a breather and
sort out all my knotted-up thoughts

We will all smile, nod and speak politely,
but no one really knows who the other is
Perhaps it is precisely in our anonymity,
do we feel free and at ease.


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