Headlight beams travel cross my room.
Speeding across the wallpaper at night
Who is the person behind this luminence
Is she on her way home with family dinner?
Is he returning from a long trip out of town?
Unique voyages for each beam of light
Across the wall at night in my room.
The walls are moving but through time
Who built them and lived between them?
Old and new homes pass me by as I travel
All containers of dreams and aspirations
If they could tell their story to me
I’d listen closely to what they have to say
Walking slowly through the town graveyard
Reciting the names and eulogies; it seems important.
I feel strange standing in so many people’s future
Wish they could give more than an etched stone saying
A face with a blank expression sitting near me
Biding time, wanting to reach a destination.
I hate time biding, so I smile so she does too
There’s little time to tell stories while we’re making them
But isnt life the only time we have to listen?
Maybe in heaven we can all listen to each other.
When no one is pressed for time.
The Rational Element 