Journey Poem by Paul Butters

Wispy wheat fields wave in the wind
As the train chugs through
Along the track of Life that circles
To bring you back where you began.

They say The Journey is the thing:
Meandering through river cut valleys
Between towering mountains.
Rivers running down to endless ocean
That drowns our globe
We call the Earth.

Kids wave from the windows of that train
A custom of love for fellow humankind.
All aboard are full of hopes and dreams
And fears
Anticipating all manner of things
At their destination for the day.

Many have gone to the seaside this way,
While others have travelled for work
Or even a new life.
Our ancients may have been nomads
And modern folk too must sometimes journey.
There's no place like home,
But first you have to get there.
Go safely everyone.

© PB 19\4\2024.