Passing By

Passing By

I passed her once,
the lady with the green knit hat.
I counted the wrinkles around her eyes,
they pierced jasmine flowers right at me.
The crinkling skin,
rough and raw,
fingers shaking midair,
she tried to tell me –
something.

I passed him once,
my eyes locked on his chin,
a one inch line,
surrounded by dots –
surgeon must have been an artist –
the scar was blabbing,
sharing its tale;
he had been fighting for a friend.

I passed that girl one day,
her face a canvass of stain,
clinging tightly,
to the arm –
that gleamed with pride,
for the reason –
her painted face.
She could not look my way,
her hair whisked from the wind,
and shouted into my ears,
about her pain.

I passed that boy one day,
his bright blurred eyes,
looked deep into my soul –
they quivered to tell me,
I absorbed him in…
Soaked up into his pages,
the ache of his story –
a cactus in my heart.
His shaky skin,
revealing silence –
unheard,
alone and scared,
left without words,
his eyes they burned
and pleaded with me,
“My God, my god can you see?”

I stopped at his feet that day,
while the world passed us by,
our invisible souls,
with a shout from my gut,
it blasted and sailed –
straight to the skies,
bounced back
with great mystery,
I looked into his eyes,
blaring in deep,
“You were not passed by today.”

About mindretrofit8

Sharing the twistings, and musings that twirl in my mind. Hoping others can relate, or at least enjoy... To know more about me personally you can visit my website at Mind Retrofit.
This entry was posted in Random Musings and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Passing By

  1. Boomie Bol says:

    This is very vivid…I like the ending much

  2. Angel says:

    Thank you for that Boomie Bol! I like it described as “vivid.” Happy to read you liked the ending too. 🙂

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