As the train hurtled onwards, I glanced out of the window. And gave a stifled cry On seeing a hand in the blue. Which appeared to beckon The golden sun in the west. Or was it outstretched towards The Unknown Infinity? The hand moved very swiftly Sailing behind bare mountains, And fleeing palms and trees. Keeping pace almost with The speedily moving train. As the day advanced the colour Of the hand many times changed. As dusk set in its outline only could be discerned. As night descended it vanished, But i feel it is still there; Reaching out for eternity. I slowly downed the shutter And at myself softly laughed, For since childhood it has been my habit to descry Strange pictures in the clouds Floating in the skies.