We forge onward through the morning mist.
The night was slow as we traversed a past flood.
Now, finally, to new lands!
How wonderful to see
Different grasses, trees, & flowers.
We continue westward!
The sun rises in our backs.
That true beginning;
As our movement’s friction with the train-tracks,
It feels like it is we that bring it upon us;
Not the sun that emerges forth,
But the Earth’s very rotating pulse.
Yes! Our own determined dash;
The natural rhythm of the universe:
While the sun,
Glorious & solemn,
Awaits us with open arms.