reflections while traveling

you go to the airport

you walk through the terminal

you look at the shops and the restaurants

you find a place to sit and watch the flow of people

on the canvas of this moving moment being carried

along walkways or coming out of jetways,

saddled with backpacks and towing

rolling luggage, coming from

somewhere and going

somewhere

there are so many different lives being lived,

so many different stories, some of excitement,

some of relief, some of boredom, some of ennui

and discontent and lethargy, some of joy and peace

and gratitude, you wonder to yourself as you watch

this parade of humanity, what determines

the stories we tell ourselves

so many different perspectives

on whether they are successful or

unsuccessful, happy or unhappy,

wanted or unwanted

As if, throughout all of history,

there had always been airports

As if, throughout all of history,

people had always traveled magical passages,

boarded sleek metal machines,

then flown through the sky