Blue Lines On The Map

Those little blue lines out there in the middle of nowhere, on the maps of old are all stories drawn and told; started by wagon trails or Pony Express mails, and bison paths long before that. On the map, merely marks but out here upon the earth they are existential sparks; lines of freedom, always giving hope to the continuum of living, connecting something to somewhere someone here to someone there. The bison knew as did the indigenous ones who followed too, all...then, now and yet to come on life's map, the entire sum, travelling on a hope and a prayer going here, going there... going Somewhere.