Footsteps. Conversations.
Spinning wheels. A million eyes.
The sounds and the voices of a city-
always changing, constantly making itself be heard,
taking to itself, feeling the rush of being alive.

A cyclist weaving and racing through lines of cars,
vans, and trucks, gridlocked and stationery-
but glowing and constant red lights
doesn’t stop him for anything,
and for all he knows every light is green;
a commuter in a crowd making their way to work,
desperately holding on to the umbrella in one hand
and the take-out coffee cup
that they are holding onto tightly in the other-
just trying to get to work without bumping into someone else,
or crossing a street and almost being hit
by a fast-peddling cyclist that they nearly didn’t see.

Meeting places.
Get togethers.
The relay and transference of information and knowledge.
A starting point, a route, a destination, a direction, and end
that is merely a jumping-off point to a magical adventure-
like a song that you sing before following a yellow brick road.

There is traffic all around us-
in the sky, above the clouds around Earth,
over land, over sea, under the water, below the ground;
there is movement even in the stillness of a picture-postcard scene
that you don’t see, but which you can hear
by its noticeable feel and sound.

Life is always on the move,
and I find that absolutely phenomenal and terrific.
Life is an endless motorway that is connected and ventured down
and navigated every second by an infinite stream
and network of traffic.

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