Traveling
With all its banal indignities,
Rewards my patience,
With sun splattering snow peaks,
Above misted valley homes,
The Alps at my feet,
When the seal is broken at the end of the journey,
The elevator opens on a new city,
The manifested promise of order and power,
Of our best foresight and engineering,
And of my hope of being freed from where I was,
Into the possibility of where I’m going,
Again, again, stepping, rolling, flying towards hope,
As if hope and its promises might, this time, be real.
