The tracks are out there again,

Beckoning towards me,

Saying “come forth … once again”,

Gleaming in the mid afternoon sun,

As lights on a driveway,

For a returning son.

 

Moments before, I reflect on all those thousands,

Those thousands of spikes, rails and sleepers,

Trundling in the mind of my life,

Of stations whizzed by,

And those where I disembarked,

And stayed a while.

 

Each one now as important as the other,

A glimpse, or passing smile as memorable as a lifetime spent with others,

Dreamily, souls catching some of another’s story,

And pressing it firmly into my book of life, this life,

Like a flower to be savored during cold winter nights.

When the meeting happens all over again.

 

As the million photographs suddenly burst into the room once more.

Of all whom I love.