24th March 2009

Standing amongst a sea of heads.
Feeling the velocity chugger though the soles of my feet.
The charcoal lies in piles by the tracks.
The jolt,
     a wakening.
A small sliver of hope;
     will I get home?
     Will I get home – in time.

The sea of heads, mostly reading, eyes downcast,
sunlight on their papers.
Dashing over a bridge, they do not cease to concentrate.
My music hums in my ears,
     a little sweet; bittersweet.
Open windows, unbroken handles, as the wind
     flies through them, strong and free.

Oh are you sure, little one?
     Will the sun continue to set;
     will your heart continue to love?
     I want to hear you sing.
     I want you to listen to the wind with me.
Oh, I can show you one day.
We will stand on our feet, without needing to learn to love.
And while we love,
the love that we feel is real.
I can show you the world,
     and I can keep standing,
     and I’ll always be feeling.