Waiting at the bus stop
I might be alone
or there might be someone else sitting on this bench
I get up and pace
back and forth and back and forth...
It might be right on time
but I don't know what right on time is
maybe it's ten minutes after or maybe fifteen or maybe five
It pulls up
I say hello
I take my seat
I've got my ipod on
it's blasting some song
but I want to read or pray or something
I turn it off
But I leave the earbuds in
There's people everywhere
I see some every time I ride
I see them again and again
But I'll never know their names
Some are only in town today
I'll never see them again
for as long as I live
I overhear a conversation
I might be interested
or annoyed
They're talking about their lives
or maybe the news
or maybe some big idea
maybe a really big idea
I might be interested
but probably not
A minute has passed
In that minute I've passed at least two dozen buildings
I have no idea how many people
maybe more than a hundred
So many lives that I just flash by
So many lives condensed into so many minutes of travelling
So many lives condensed into so many blocks and miles of city
So many birthdays
inrpirations
triumphs and defeats
So much pain and pleasure
agony and joy
So much of everything that matters
Wars are fought over this
revolutions
constitutions
charities
research
adventures
quests
Novels are written about this
bestsellers even
poems
plays
holy texts
God made the universe
for this grand drama of little moments
God died in this war of laughs and tears
He rose again to fight
in the battlefield of awkwardness and stiffness and hilarity
of bickering over dinner tables
and cheerful walks
and lonely rides in buses full of people
How can something so impossibly big
be so very small?
I get on and say hello to the driver
I get off and say thank you
And in between all these people
all these souls
skim the surface of my life
When will I understand my part?
When will I grasp the immensity
or the glory
or the tragedy
or the beauty
of this war of little things
that plays out every day
when I go to school?
I might be alone
or there might be someone else sitting on this bench
I get up and pace
back and forth and back and forth...
It might be right on time
but I don't know what right on time is
maybe it's ten minutes after or maybe fifteen or maybe five
It pulls up
I say hello
I take my seat
I've got my ipod on
it's blasting some song
but I want to read or pray or something
I turn it off
But I leave the earbuds in
There's people everywhere
I see some every time I ride
I see them again and again
But I'll never know their names
Some are only in town today
I'll never see them again
for as long as I live
I overhear a conversation
I might be interested
or annoyed
They're talking about their lives
or maybe the news
or maybe some big idea
maybe a really big idea
I might be interested
but probably not
A minute has passed
In that minute I've passed at least two dozen buildings
I have no idea how many people
maybe more than a hundred
So many lives that I just flash by
So many lives condensed into so many minutes of travelling
So many lives condensed into so many blocks and miles of city
So many birthdays
inrpirations
triumphs and defeats
So much pain and pleasure
agony and joy
So much of everything that matters
Wars are fought over this
revolutions
constitutions
charities
research
adventures
quests
Novels are written about this
bestsellers even
poems
plays
holy texts
God made the universe
for this grand drama of little moments
God died in this war of laughs and tears
He rose again to fight
in the battlefield of awkwardness and stiffness and hilarity
of bickering over dinner tables
and cheerful walks
and lonely rides in buses full of people
How can something so impossibly big
be so very small?
I get on and say hello to the driver
I get off and say thank you
And in between all these people
all these souls
skim the surface of my life
When will I understand my part?
When will I grasp the immensity
or the glory
or the tragedy
or the beauty
of this war of little things
that plays out every day
when I go to school?
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