Still and Waiting

Sitting and watching the world go by, wondering what it's like, being there, in the movement, thinking quick and hoping strong.

The endless trail, on which I walk, hoping for a fork in the path, a choice I can choose, to go right or left, mixing things up a little.

You stand there one second, then run the next, while you pass me by, for I am still as time itself.

A movement, a crease, a bend in the bow, go the way the sign says to go, ending up a million miles away, being in a different moment.

As different as right and left, as the same as your eyes, a beaten path, which you may lead, and I shall follow.

Ending up, as still as air, back to watching you pass, for only a little was I to have joined, for I am destined to wait.