I stand on the balcony
and glance across
scattered lights in
scattered homes.
Here and there
people have late dinners,
watch TV,
play games,
make love,
make war.
Street lights shine back
from drizzle drenched streets.
Few cars, fewer people
walk the paths
away from where they have come
towards some destination.
We all have some destination.
Eventually, it’s all the same.
But tonight I watch the city lights
reflect from low clouds,
and listen to the music.
Don’t you hear it?
Ah, you’re not listening then,
if you can’t.
And if you can’t,
there’s no explaining.
