On the way to Townsville

Where’s the sunshine?
This green paradise is without light
the mass of green canefields is covered,
thick blankets of potential cocoon
the apparent forests lining the track

Our journey is built on concern
but its laced by lethargy
a train-inspired trance of dullness
broken only by rare stations

this gently rolling ride through sleepy towns,
drifting through unfamiliar landscapes
we are learning how time railroads us
the places can now be put to the maps

we’re on a trek for a new vision
yet we’re trapped in this dawdling box
unable to touch the moving cradle of the spirit
its a journey of marvellous sterility