Once at a
Train station I
Saw this man
Struggling with baggage
So many bags
Heavy bags burdensome
Bags bags that
Obviously had seen
Wars and triumphs
I helped him
Load them into
The train and
Once seated he
Asked me sir
You only have
One bag are
You traveling near
No I said
I’m going to
The other side
Of the world
With just one
Bag he said
One bag is
All I need
I plan on
Meeting people and
People don’t fit
Into bags things
Do and things
Are not people
No matter how
Much that you
Wish they were
Wrinkles are known
As times roadmap
They represent years
Of laughter and
Years of heartbreak
A face with
No wrinkles is
A face that
Hasn’t said a
Goodbye to someone
The last time
Or the hello
To someone thought
To be lost
Look into a
Face with wrinkles
And know that
There are the
Mysteries of life
I imagine you
Preferring not to
Remember for remembering
Brings about pain
Like remembering summer
In the winter
Makes me colder
So in my
Winter I imagine
You as summer
And from the
Dark one scratch
And one flame
Lit a candle
And the room
Glowed as though
The moon broke
Free from late
Night clouds and
I found you
Watching me like
Shoppers mmming at
Freshly baked bread
Knowing even before
Laying down that
You had plans
For us tonight
Adventures and quests
And eventual lullabies
Life is odd
It requires trust
And talent trust
In knowing where
You belong and
Talent to get
You there like
A painter before
A blank canvas
Or a writer
Before a fresh
Page both trust
And talent creates
Something something miraculous
And expressive and
Inviting and worthy
And even if
It’s not the
Best it’s definitely
Something something towards
Your eventual best
