T R A C K S

I must have made this journey, A hundred times or more, First South, then North, then back again, A course, chartered rhythm A bumbling framework, for my transition. The windows always define the same Familiar lands, yet in fact unexplored. With sweeping glances These eyes have looked through the glass At life's apparent, Yet quietly undefined advances. And likewise the heart has lived And journeyed too - North and South; East and West In tears to deceptive fears, To joy, anticipation, peace - exhaustion. Honest compartments of carried emotion. Older now, I can rest, Between each platform knowing; I am slightly closer to home. Deep gratitude reserves time in her hands, Beats steadily, as hours pass; Moments uncovered, reminded - expand. This trip, I imagine, back and forth, Will continue into years ahead. And although tempting to reduce legs by air - I'd miss the memories, Grounding of the tracks The journeys between; that which brought me there.


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