Where are we going?
Are we travelling somewhere?
Do we travel through light
Seeing little stars in the cloak edged night?
Do we head North towards the icy pole?
Or to the polar bears as white as snow?
Do we travel by a compass getting lost between magnetic and real?
Or is there a grey, winding road heading in that particular direction?
Across the way snowflakes have come out to play,
Dancing upon the air like ballerinas floating on a swan lake.
Through the icy window of our carriage we see a couple,
blurred against the light, but yet they walk as if warmth has touched their bones and very core.
They do not feel the cold or wonder at the light,
their bright eyes light the way towards each other’s heart.
It is East that we may travel, across the winding road,
A smiling sun all different shades of bright,
greets us with it’s morning light.
We wave to the sun from way out yonder,
Nodding to the warmth it gives.
Yet as we pass by familiar trees that give a scent of nature,
we pass two weary travellers on the road set apart by a shrub.
They look tired and weary, and with dirt on their skin,
they explain with a smile, as we slowed down,
that they have climbed the tallest mountain in these fair forest grounds.
While we asked why they replied with a relaxed grin,
it is a choice, we were tested by the tallest thing in our vision
to prove that our friendship has rock-hard grounding in every mission.
It is not to East that our search takes us,
but to the South where overhead birds squawk their familiar call.
To awaken us to their seasonal flight.
Why do we go this way when the sun seems to follow us every which way?
All I see is grey and white lines,
giving us direction and lack of destination.
South is comforting often tiring,
it is like going down a map.
Across the way,
multiple rivers and streams pass our overglade.
60 kilometres to a turtle crawl
we approached a busy intercross.
A brown, rusted train passed by taking passengers by and by,
the passengers inside we comfortable and still.
Itlooked like they were in suspended animation,
but inside a little boy wrapped in a blue blanket tweaked the end of his father’s beard,
and then we saw that these silent figures were alive with motion.
Finally to the West we have entered,
I am sure this is the direction we are going.
Turns have led us this way and that,
telling us to follow the road like substitute munchkins.
The sun meets us before it goes away,
waving goodbye until another day.
At last I know where we are going,
it seems like a familiar direction.
I look past and see people in a park
and a young man teaching his cavalier dog to sit.
Unsuccessfully he tried and became impatient,
ut his dog counterbalanced with a well-known grin.
Passed these happy people, across the river on a white bridge,
Towards a pond with pink and purple tiger-lily’s,
and finally to a brown driveway with a sharp bump at the beginning.
I finally knew where we were and realised why,
We have been going around in circles,
seeing so many different sites but yet our road led us to the one place we liked,
it took us home.