Sitting by the road’s edge, I watch life go by.
I see men, women, children, old and young people.
They carry on their faces their realities and beyond,
I foresee, have almost a glimpse, surely imagine,
what really lead them to move on but cannot be seen:
– their well-kept secrets, desires, aspirations.
Personal, insurmountable, what sets them apart,
which is their high esteem, their own motto, their ego.
Sometimes seeing from very high, I see even myself,
mixed in the crowd, perhaps a little lost,
but firmly believing to be on the walk too.
I feel the collective hope that we will arrive,
each in its own time, to the promised land,
that Canaan where milk and honey spill
and evil never finds shelter.
This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©