| Previous | Oct 10, 1994 | Next |
Trains | ||
| The speeding train flies through the night In search again for morning bright. It does not try to go astray. The rails will always lead the way. We hear the whistle loud and clear, And then we see the train appear. We ponder its trajectory, Pursuing what was meant to be. We, too, are trains in our own right, Just moving on in day and night. We pause at stations here and there To lend a hand and raise a prayer. | ||
| Previous | Category Philosophy Categories Index | Next in Category |