Process

I am building a railroad track,
laying it down.
I am lifting and heaving
and driving in spikes.
It’s a process,
a slow process.
Slow and steady.
But I have this feeling…
I will not finish.
I have this feeling
the train will come
sooner than I think,
and it will fly
right off the end
and go on it’s own.
Soaring.
A magic train
to an unfathomable destination
even greater,
and more surprising
than I can imagine.
I am building a railroad track,
laying it down.