Speaking with Strangers

if at some point

you find yourself

on some precipice

or open meadow by the foot of the hill.

and the sun has found its way into

that golden fire across the sky

the pink and purple tendrils of dusk crawling

across the horizon, reaching

out and in,

look around you and see

the faces

the awe and laughter

and a word shared there

Oh, isn’t it amazing?

the color and shine, they are looking too.

I can’t believe how beautiful it is tonight!

they smile, and so do you.

they could be a stranger

they are

shouldn’t every moment shared

with some stranger, known or unknown,

be just like this?

a thousand faces in grey suits in the walkway

and a thousand eyes unmet through the airport glass

A thousand days unnoticed, unshared, and

alone, of spinning in water and air and stone.

we’re tired of course and always, but

too often forget

we can speak like we do on some meadow or cliff

How magnificent!

each instant

together here we are

How absurd!

A smile and a handshake

a marvel at the stars

look kindly on your strangers

and wish them well.

its so curious to see,

they are looking too.

the sun is always setting.