There is an occasional space.
An empty quiet.
Between you,
and the world.
The real, breathing world.
Of family, friends, work
and locomotives.
You may be a person of people.
Or an awkward recluse.
But you will feel this haunting gap.
In the middle of a conversation,
when the humour gets distasteful.
When someone compromises that
which you hold absolutely fundamental.
This space exists.
All the time.
It is your distance from an unequal world.
And that uncomfortable silence,
is your question.
Fill it with
your love,
your art,
your work,
your warmth,
your understanding.
Travel tirelessly.
Until that day,
when your questions,
merge into your answers.
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