Rolling on parallel lines of curving paths;
metal chambers of eyes and thoughts,
hoping and wishing as fast as the wheels.
Airs of stories, changing as popping bubbles,
bursting in seconds, leaving eyes winking,
Fluttering pages of scenes, of abundance,
scarcity, repeating through the windows.
Floating clouds, waiting for green meadows,
Of sleeping dreams, hatching hopes,
To rain in, to rain in to water, flowing,
Criss-crossed paths of life in metal chambers;
Catching air on grinding wheels, hot and damp,
with packed lives on this journey, to and forth.
Dry and cold air on face, hearts of warm truth
of beliefs spinning around hope’s axis, tempting,