It was deep but it had an end.  They all do or at least I tell myself that.

Suppose I’m scared that one day I’ll get to that endless thing.  And there I’ll be.  Thinking there’s an end.  But it goes on and on and on.

I’ve stopped searching.

And that’s strange.

It used to be all I did.

Now it’s just travelling.

From one place to another.

I don’t know where I’m going but it’s on rails now.  Bound to the earth.  Gray smoke shooting into the sky.  Winding through the hills and along the lakes.  I’m headed there.  I don’t know where but I’m no longer searching.

It’s on rails.  Iron and thick planks.

Driven into the earth.

Defined.  Steel.  Coal.  Certainty.

And that’s strange.

Not wrong I think.

Just certain.