Symphony of time

Many feelings

jumble in the mind,

but slowly draw a picture,

conger up a rhythm,

get the pencil outlining

shapes,

happenings,

notes,

as the story begins to flow,

and the cars grind to a halt,

the faces all blank

staring from foggy windows

and the engine per

into a rhythm of monotony

the lights are green,

but still no movement,

and the atmosphere darkens

to petrol’s incessant flow,

and all begin to cough,

as the music begins to swell

towards its first crescendo,

and the lines on the paper

begin to create the scene

stroke by stroke,

as the Conductor

gives the downbeat

of the soul,

musicians play from

there immobile cars

sitting stuck in the

grey picture of our

future story in this

great impassioned

symphony of time.

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