by Michael Plante

I am a conductor
so are you.
We travel along a laid-out track.
What fuels our momentum is what drives our fears;
the past.

Charging towards the unknown
believing fate has our backs
the rails we call faith
are the only thing we can feel.
We hear the song of the rails
singing out in the darkness
the old tune we’ve come to know
the song we say is bringing us home.

We close our eyes at the blind bend
the bridge is out yet we keep charging forward.
Reasoning beyond comprehension is insanity
yet it is the only thing we understand.
Fate delivers us a blow
Shall we die or carry on?
We believe life without tragedy is meaningless
so we carry on.

Carnage is a lady singing on stage
bloodied and bruised she delivers us her story.
Calling out to the audience she’s the ramification of life.
Her dead children scattered across the stage
her sad song touches our soul
and when the curtain falls
we clap like fools on a cliff.

In the aftermath of our wreck she visits us
silently she moves through the carnage.
Her daunting eyes conclude our fate
the curtain falls
the audience goes silent.

Providence prevails.
Circumstance is a spike that secures a new track
released from the hand of carnage.
The rail continues beyond our vision
and we the conductor move forward once again.
We’re bloodied and bruised
yet time is a washcloth that heals our injuries.

Our new momentum is the future
the unknown destiny that calls us from the dark
into a world of spiritual belief
drawing our conclusion
that faith is beyond our vision
and that we are on the right track.