Past dormant construction sites
And silent car showrooms,
Kebab houses and taxi offices,
I head homewards and wonder
If snow waits for me there.

Illuminated billboard advertisements
Light my way and that of
All these people who will be home
Sooner than I...for it always seems
That I have the furthest to travel
Whatever the journey I make.

For some reason I feel
A bizarre temptation to some day
Take both sides in a battle,
Just to know how that feels.

But nothing is ever random,
No matter how it looks;
Nothing can be deemed impossible
Simply because it did not happen.

What a strange town this is
When what I say doesn't make
Much sense at all when I say it.

There are always connections,
No matter how few people
May see them or be able to
Work out what they are...

And the dust settles on this page,
Sticking to the ink from which
These words are formed,
Though it will be some time
Before it is visible; maybe eternity.

We cannot wait for everything
To coincide with our finite lives.
So I sit here on pause, waiting
For someone to let me play again...
Let me continue to tell my story
By living and being seen
And simply being.

Life cannot be a rehearsal
Because we are never shown the script.

02/03/2003

Posted on 02/05/2003
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince