Travel

Travel
Is reality’s second cousin.
You’re not sure
How you’re related
But you cherish 
The connection.

These people sit
At cafes don’t they,
Facing what 
They face
With their thimbleful
Of history?

And yet
They walk,
Smile,
Need,
Rush to watch
The dancers, clowns and spirit animals;
The crowds convulse and change.

Alone you guess
That people can be wondrous
Close your eyes and
Touch your face.
Moi aussi.
A prayer 
Escapes your lips.