Inhumane Humanity

Of all the preposterous assumptions of humanity over humanity, nothing exceeds most of the criticisms made on the habits of the poor by the well-housed, well-warmed, and well-fed. --Herman Melville

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Where do they take you?



Rusted, Steel, Silver and Gold Ribbons 
What is your adventure;
Where Do They Take You?

Rusted ribbons nestle
In forests hushed, but for
Whippoorwill’s song

Woodpecker’s drum,
Wind’s song in the tree tops,
Squirrel’s chatter and coyote's cry!

Where do they take you?
What’s at the end, around the bend
Between here and there for you?

A cold and dreary tour of summer’s end
Your passage on rails
From which to seek shelter ‘til trip’s conclusion?

Or of fires of golden aspen
And crimson maples
Emboldened by steel’s cool blue and gray,

With crows squawking amidst crisp air
Laden with a hint of winter’s presence
Thrilling and chilling your soul?
This way, or that?
What will be missed when
This is chosen or that is pursued?

Your directions split,
Decisions stalled, plans dismantled,
Judgments questioned?

Can you circle back for adventure renewed?
Or are alternatives banished
As choices are made?
 Do you peer over horizons
Devoid of color,
Replaced by shades of gray?

Or do you see a road filled with promise,
Explosions of ecstasy
In moments of intense curiosity

Amidst the awesomeness
Of open space, bewildering vastness
And freedom of direction?
 Are yours but frail tracks filled with stormy darkness,
Fear and desperation?
Yet another worrisome turn,
One after another?

Angry, jagged fingers, frightful thunder
Interrupting
Mundane and routine trails?

Or are you on an expedition of excitement,
Thrill and exhilaration
Of adrenaline instilled enthusiasm?

 
 Is darkness looming,
Signaling an end
To yet another day?

Or are there silver threads
Leading your golden
Trek with awe

Following Sol
As he guides you
Along his purple shores?

Once sentinels of energy
Keeping currents
On intended routes

Now, a half-concealed emerald gem
Between ribbons
Of roaming silver

Shattered jewels
Blue, green, amber and red
Provide color for the rocky trail
 


Cicadas singing in unison
Under a stifling sun
As brilliant white clouds

Glide lazily through thick
Humid air, a respite
From blistering rays

Cottonwood feathers floating slowly
Distracting thoughts
Of the void below

Track’s silver crowns
Glinting with Sol's rays
Creosote’s sweet aroma
And engine’s horn bellowing.

Cohort’s eyes wide
Hearts pounding
Against the dare

Senses sharpened, taking in all
As cool waters rush upwards, towards
The temerarious youth jumping from above

Ribbons of rust, steel,
Silver and gold,
Endless passages.

A ride
Of infinite discovery,
Of endearing moments;

Of squinting towards the searing sun,
Taking the opportunity
To change the ordinary into ribbons
of rainbows and adventure.