Some poem from the past

In the distance, a familiar horn echoes through the meadows
In the distance, I see smoke as dark as night heading my way
I am afraid it might scare the fishes,
I am afraid that I will go home disappointed

Beside me is my sister, young and inquisitive
Watching big brother, fishing with naught but a string on a stick
I am afraid that she might laugh at me
I am afraid that she will not be proud of me

Further down the river is Father and Uncle John in their fishing boat
Father says it is not about catching the fish, but the experience of the wait
I am afraid that he might be wrong
I am afraid that I will not grow to be a better man

Drawing closer, the familiar horn signals its arrival
From the dark smoke emerges the mighty locomotive
I remember why I fish here every week
I remember what I want to be

I want to be at the helm of my future,

“I am not afraid of the dark clouds ahead”
“I am not afraid of strife”

The world is full of possibilities.