Out upon a cold plain
From the view of my coach seat
I see a world coated in frost
The fields are white
The fog is dense
This world is dull, and yet its beauty is baffling
Facing backwards along the tracks
As the world moves in reverse
This must be a dream...
But I am awake.
I gaze upon silhouettes far beyond my reach
Is it a house? A tree? A person?
They are a mystery to me
I wish for them to stay that way.
This world is a stranger to me.
A stranger, yet a friend.
A slimmer of gold breaches through the thick white fog
Over time it grows and multiplies
The fog slowly dies
And in its dying breaths it gives birth to the dawn.
I'm blinded by the colors before me.
Rich browns and greens greet me.
The frost of an early morning still remains
The trees, though leaf-less, reach up towards a cerulean sky
And the sun radiates a gentle hue that castes dancing shadows along my coach.
This world is beyond my comprehension
A world that is a stranger and yet a friend to me.