That place out there

I think I see

temples and mountains and purple sky

but in the blink of an eye

something new

and the sky is back to blue

and the train leaps right on through

dark tunnel walls

dripping, rhythmic drops

inches keeping us from rock

sparks in pitchest black

limbs clawing for the tracks

then light

as pure as angels

blinding and reminding

of the mountains watching down

hard gaze and stoic frown

displeased with this new place

of noise and speed and space

where for a second I see

a star shooting a wink to me

and dancing out across the sky

like it doesn’t care, nothing matters,

this earth of ours will end in tatters

so just dance the endless night away

sing and scream and live till day

then do it all again

because something happens when

that spark comes back into your eyes

and within a blink there comes surprise.

What’s there outside those windows?

What’s there?

 

 

Something magical happens on trains. Something truly rooted in the mysterious wonder of childhood.

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