A Ride to Rosslyn

Above the ground the Day is full of color, 

life is bright, and brilliant.

Stepping on to the moving staircase, 

the bright world is left behind,

pulling you into a new world below.

down, down, down, 

the decent seems to take forever, 

lower and lower

 beneath it all. 

Life is still moving as it does above the surface, 

as the crowds rush 

up and down,

too impatient for the slow and steady pace of the overworked escalators. 

A final short ride brings you to the bottom,

screeching and rushing 

wind lets you know the train is here,

a final scatter to catch the ride.

You better hurry,

 because there is work being done,

and the delays are unruly. 

Finally emerging from the tunnel

 are beams of light,

lights begin to flash alerting those 

of the long awaited train.

The crowd has grow as a result of the elapsed time, 

the people seem to glide down to the platform,

the escalator is hidden.
Rushing,

 pushing,

 competing,

the escalator is in high demand,

everything is frantic.

Almost there...

the methodic movements of the train, 

calm the anxiety the trip has built,

next stop

 Rosslyn.

Below the ground the colors seem gray, 

A world contained 

by the weight from above,

gray yet hectic

 there are still great wonders.

Finally, 

3rd largest in world, 

an amazing site hidden from above, 

disguised as being solely a tool, 

it is a work of art, 

a giant mountain inviting you

up,

up, 

up. 

There is no rush here,

just humans one with the machine,

riding down and up like statues,

a single moment of peace in a busy day.

Absence of sunlight is filled,

lighting the incessant steps climb repeatedly, 

stopping for no-one.

The moment is over, 

once again the rush of life returns,

blurring past, taking you back to reality.

Emerging from the grey and yellow, 

the bright colors re-appear,

...............

one last ride completes the journey.