It was inevitable, a freight train charging down the tracks,
The light was hungry, seeking and searching, guiding the path,
The smoke stack bellowed, the whistle cried its defiant scream,
It seemed like a beast, coming to devour and destroy all in its way.
Next to the track she stood, feet pressed up against its edge.
Waiting and waiting and waiting, not seeking and not running,
But patiently she stood, enjoying the beauty around her.
The stoic stances of the trees, the soft breeze that gently ruffled her hair
In a manner that covered the face, and back again, exposing vision.
She cocked her head, tilting to the left, hearing from the distance.
There was an all-consuming rush of noise and confusion that approached,
But again, she stopped and considered, for the distance was great.
She stood in the middle of a forest, during the beginning of the great season of fall,
The leaves were beginning to change color,
The air held a faint crispness that spoke of approaching change.
She held an apple in her hand, the bright redness blending in with all around her.
Crunching the apple, sweet juices delighted the senses of her mouth.
Lost in thought, she lost track of the raging beast on its path for her destruction.
And then, it was there.
Knocked backwards, down she went, and the world turned upside down.
It became a convoluted mass of screaming noise, heat and the blackness of smoke.
Senses were no more. The world was lost. Perception was gone.
It seemed to last for an eternity, this violation into what she had known,
As car after car carrying all their cargo blurred past.
Slowly, the dissipation began.
The smoke began to clear from her eyes, and the heat began to radiate less fiercely.
The noise had retreated to a world that made sense again.
The apple had been knocked from her hand. Dusty and dirty, and covered in soot,
She left it to lie. The town was just down the track, time to start moving.
The trail was long and arduous, but she wanted to see the wild beast tamed.
No longer screaming, no longer issuing the black smoke.
No more blasting the world with its earth-shattering movement.
It had achieved its task, purring in place, with a gentle rocking movement.
There were new paths to be forged.
