Train

The train arrived but I did not enter. 
I stood there at the station watching the wagons passing by. 
There were people in the wagons, each person seem to know where he is going.
I come here often.
Sometimes I meet an acquaintance: "How are you?", "Well, there is nothing new."
There is never any news.
Sometimes I'd like to get on the train, but I have nowhere to go.
I know that my friends - the one from Be'er Sheva, the others from Tel Aviv and Haifa, are also waiting at theirs' train stations.
They also have nowhere to go.
My friend from Be'er Sheva try sometimes to go to India, but he always returns.
I'm not going to India because I fear of getting lost, so I'm staying here.
My friends remain here as well.
We all move from station to station, even though we are standing on the same platform. One can say we're already close to the final station.
I wonder why all trains go in one direction - into the future.
What is it in the future that is so compelling? Why are all trains going there?
I see young passengers, their young faces worried, yet full of anticipation.
We sent our children on the train of life. 
Every once in a while we see them, passing by the station, but we remain on the platform.
When I was young, I too travel through the known stations of elementary school, army service, and high school.
Then I stop traveling to join my wife.
Now only our children are the passengers on the train of life, and we just watch.