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.