One of those trips...
Why is it a train of thoughts, when sometimes just one thought is its only passenger. Solitary, as some moments leave us, dreaming in a chair, falling into a single hand and walking through the warmth of being by yourself... and away. And as the world recedes again around us, it feels as though angels stand beside, making sure we know, pretending nothing but holding silence. And into the tearless cry of quietude slithers a tiny smile. A gift from a place not much higher than our own, but then above it all. It's where our home is at. Where we come from. Where we return to. Where we wait. From where we're called to go grow and given a mind, a body and a world to do so. Time after time. Here we are different. Here we are given time. Here we're given a chance to have all that and a chair to sit in. A moment to dream. A ticket for the train. And every time we send a thought onto the journey the train gets fuller.