The Commuters

What moved us.

sea of clouds during sunset

And so, we went on, seeking shelter, seeking rest. We were mostly moved by wants––fears too, naturally. We guided our rafts between dangers and needs until the distinctions between shores began to blur. 

But sometimes in a quiet hour, there would come a recognition. The want had no end, did it? It was as vast as the sky we beheld at night, and just as impossible to see. It was here and it was forever out of reach. There was nothing to do but move toward it, singing the testimonies of our weaving hearts.

Later, another recognition: nothing survives, does it? No single creature. And yet, we sensed this constant drum at the center of each gathering. Only this luminous moment––yes, even of our death––has any life. We gathered to witness and were moved to move again.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

8 thoughts on “The Commuters”

  1. The want had no end. Love the sound of that, and the eternal yearning, it seems. Nice piece for the day Stacey. Thank you!

      1. “Love!” If there was a heart button to click I’d click it. Ha ha

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