Night bus

[Isagel]

We take our seats
on the night bus
(eight hours, station to station)
one by one
or two by two,
a family of four in the back row.

The lady in front of us
folds her jacket neatly
and picks up her cellphone
says: "We are leaving now"
and "yes it is... "
Your lips make
a pattern on my hair
as you say
"it is going to be good..."
The man draws his child closer
whispering
"... it is going to
be good to come home."

I look at the window
I can only see my own reflection
and I start to think
that perhaps we are always
perhaps we are all
travelling in one
illuminated spot,
and all around us darkness
and it is going to be good
it is going to be good
it is going to be good
to come home


( My try at the whole time and space theme. Be gentle. Or not)

[amuse]

i love your style, Isagel. Not sure if i've ever mentioned that?
i wanted to respond when i first read this, but couldn't find the words; i still can't.
this is simultaneously ethereal and beautifully "present" : it plunks one down into every night bus in every town on the globe. (so yes, :) , the whole time-space thing works great. :nod: i 'specially like the father's whispers, and you staring out of the window (that part reminds me of staring into the night sky and the same feeling of kinship with the rest of the world.)
i love this poem.

[Isagel]

Thank you very much. You really do not have any truoble in finding words that makes me happy. I was not really sure if the parts of talking and whispers all adding up in the same sentence would work. I was also delighted in your picture of the night sky and kinship- when you read you always seem to pick something up and in your reading creat something new and beautiful. Thank you for that. I thought that in some way we are always travelling towards something, in a way that is how we experience time itself, th "now" like a moving bubble from something we leave behind, towards something we do not know. A bubble , or a night bus :-).