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Text
Night Journey
English source:
Kate Wakeling
When it’s like this,
when mum is driving
and everyone is quiet,
heads toppling with sleep,
and the motorway is a dizzy black
slicked with lights,
when it’s like this,
the car is not a mile machine.
It is a thought machine.
New thoughts fizz from nowhere.
New thoughts tick and gleam,
find strange shapes,
strange colours,
build things,
grow wings.
New thoughts sizzle out into the dark.
Old thoughts find new homes,
new roads
or
pop like bubbles.
Worries go slow mo,
fade to grey
and vanish.
Because the car is not a mile machine.
It is a thought machine.
when mum is driving
and everyone is quiet,
heads toppling with sleep,
and the motorway is a dizzy black
slicked with lights,
when it’s like this,
the car is not a mile machine.
It is a thought machine.
New thoughts fizz from nowhere.
New thoughts tick and gleam,
find strange shapes,
strange colours,
build things,
grow wings.
New thoughts sizzle out into the dark.
Old thoughts find new homes,
new roads
or
pop like bubbles.
Worries go slow mo,
fade to grey
and vanish.
Because the car is not a mile machine.
It is a thought machine.
Composer
Cheryl Frances-Hoad
Cheryl's music has been described as “like a declaration of faith in the eternal verities of composition” (The Times), with “a voice overflowing not only with ideas, but also with the discipline and artistry necessary to harness them” (The…
