We'll know how far we've gone
once the ocean stops and we see
Los Angeles
set on fire by streetlights
carlights
spotlights
from the passenger window.

We'll know how far we've gone
once we see the giant orange chasm,
the blistering white snowtop mountains
and the crystal azure rivers
from the passenger window.

We'll know how far we've gone
when we see the amber waves
of grain that I grew up singing about
whispering in the Nebraska wind
and see the capital building
busting out of the fields.

We'll know we're home
when the plane touches solid ground.