You are the ghost of what remains
Able to persist in soil ruined by the workings of man
Able to grow after the rage of fire
I am in awe of your ability to exist in such turmoil
Yet know that strange soils can bring rich beginnings
I may know little about your world
But recognize your strength to do what many fear

I may not believe in a god(s)
But that does not mean that I do not have a religion

I believe in poetry

You buried me
Half the world away
And a lifetime ago

Yet you find me
In your every daydream
In every foreign touch
In every what if...

Almost...
But never quite

A busway stops at a certain station
People come through
Then walk off
And the cycle repeats itself
Its the same bus .
Just different people
various stories and lives
I long to know
But will never be able to