There is that moment,
That moment
When the low, deep sound
Precedes everything,
When your crow becomes silent
And the morning becomes brighter.

There is that moment,
That moment
When you can hear
That deep roar
Just before the whistle sounds
As fantasy dances with hope
To magic’s song.

There is that moment,
That moment
Right near the yellow line
And
You stare up the
Continuous welded rail
And look with all your might
Toward the low hum
Toward the whistle blowing
It dislodging your crow,
Announcing to all your life
And the lives near you
Of your upcoming adventure.

There is that moment,
That moment
When the sunrise doesn’t mean anything,
When the ferry crossing Puget Sound
Doesn’t mean anything,
When your crow
Doesn’t mean anything,
When adulthood doesn’t mean anything
Because you are focused,
Totally focused
On the sound of that train,
The rolling thunder
That makes places become your past
To
Make way for your future.

There is that moment,
That moment
When the train
That
Transforms you
Transports you
To another place
As its deep roar grows louder,
Grows closer
Rendering insignificant
The merely human voices on the platform:
How can they compete
With the magic inside your head,
With the magic inside your soul?

There is that moment,
That moment
When the train stops right in front of you
And know your world is perfect
As
You climb aboard
Begin your magic journey,
And you are also the crow
Resting on a nearby fence.