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.