There are so many people.
So many stories.
…

You look around this cafe space. The countless people that wander through.
Holding suitcase. Or laptop.
With working boots. With heels.
With a coffee in hand.
With a shopping bag.
With a bun on the head.  
With headphones in the ears.
Looking down at a phone. Or talking on the phone.
Holding the head high. Or looking to the side.
Wearing glasses on the nose.
Speaking to a partner who waves across the room.

Who are these people?
What do they do? 

Birds flap just outside the door.
Music flows from someone’s phone.
A man moves past. He looks like a burglar but has a grandpa smile.
There’s another man behind the counter, taking the order, rubbing a knot in his shoulder.
A glance at the clock. A glance at the door. A glance at the toilet.
There’s a girl who says goodbye over her shoulder.
Another girl who rushes forward, late for a class?
What about the woman who waltzes through in a dress, where is she off to?
Or the girl who puts her bag down and leaves it there. Wow, there’s trust.
Then there’s the man who walks past, eyes the bag, but leaves it be.

What is the rhythm to these inconsistencies?
What is the heartbeat of humanity?

The slouched shoulders.
The water bottle weight.
The poster assessment.
The lost stroller.
The ear scratcher.
The alert one, turning at a slight noise.
The one with the shoes that click.
The one holding the books to her chest.
The one popping gum in her mouth.
The one who looks at you.

There.
Something.
Someone. 
Sees.

You miss his eyes.
You pretend you’re not here, not there.

What does this say about humanity?
Do we truly want to be seen?

A glance, then gone.
Phew.
Back to work.
Rhythm gone. 
Seen. 
No longer a stream.
Consciousness bleeds.
Heartbeat runs wild and free.

There.
The heartbeat of humanity.
A question of identity. 
When all is temporary.
Fleeting.
Passing by.

Who are you? 
You’re the wall.
The words.
There’s no worth. 
Nothing but a bleeding heart.
Ink stains on page.
A life to depart. 

Eternity calls.
The Word knows your walls.
He breaks the walls down.
He wears a victorious crown.

There is worth in the earth.
There is glory despite curse.
There is a Word.
Man.
God.
Spirit.

A breath to the heart that runs wild and free.
A breath that blows away the walls of temporality.
A breath that invites you to walk into eternity. 

You’re the wall.
That hears eternity’s call.