Small Strengths

Small Strengths

(or Description of a passenger while loose thoughts go)

I ignore if

he realizes time is a small

box delivering sound into space

he keeps on walking, head up, surveying the periphery

far above the ground, like

scanning for length and color;

on a close scale his left index finger

is pressing

his mobile's jack plug softly

to the inner side, but that

is irrelevant, maybe

the fields are a sea of haulm, waiting

I ignore if

he realizes he is being observed

or whether he has noticed the continuum

hum that fills the silence

when we stop

making noise, space

can be heard

I've seen it, felt it

more than once, when lying

in my cabin's bed, at night, space talks to me –

that's when I think ideas

cross the threshold of awareness

becoming – about form and time explores its utility

halting just for a few secs

the fields are a bedding for light, waiting

he's gone!

and I ignore if he's coming back

© José Coelho, 2015