He watches
Is he caught in the rain or blinded by the floodlights?
The neon wires burn his gaze, spelling out hotel
The wind cuts through his trench coat, encasing his body and mind in an icy glaze,
But his heart is at peace.
There’s no need to turn back now he thinks as he lies awake, the neon red lettering tearing through the sheer curtains and penetrating his mind yet again,
But he is safe now, and the neon cannot hurt him.
The stone wall upon which he sits is crumbling, rough and moss covered, but it is home.
He stares up at the migrating geese, their honks loud and clear in the crisp air.
When the world is dark, and the stars are out
My mind comes alive.
I drown alone in my thoughts with a smile on my face,
And let myself get lost,
Because I know I’ll be found.
I wonder what heaven looks like. I wonder this as an atheist. Is it space, sailing among stars? Is it merely a concept, eternally to be determined, determined by fate?
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