Saturday, December 31, 2016

The Train

The Train
I hear the train 
I feel the train
Thunder, rumbling beneath my feet
The horn declaring
I bring you goods
I bring you progress 
Progress is good, isn't it?
It built America 

I hear the train
More quiet now
It has moved on into the distance 
While I sit here on this bench
Somewhat intrigued 
Somewhat saddened 

I hear the thunder of our ancestors
But it only lingers
So far out in the distance
A sound deep in the recesses of my soul

I am shocked out of the moment
Ripped back into the present
Thrown onto the concrete sidewalk
With nary a speck of compassion 

The train has returned 
Swallowed me up in deafness 
Blowing its horn right in my ear
I don't think I have anything to fear
Except for the fruits of perdition 

And now that I cannot hear anything
Anything but the ringing and noise
I go about my typical day
Seeking out my typical toys
Thankful for what the train did bring today
To help me get through the mire, 
To help me get through the fray

Still there is a thunder in the cacophony

I must be still enough to hear it
To feel it
To know it

One cannot simply rip a redwood
Right up out of the ground

I know that sound...

(Train Photo via Google Image,, unknown photographer)

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