Sitting in the car
Waiting for traffic to move
The cold rain tumbling down the window
The drops collide into a single line.
Inside my father and I wait in the warm heat.

We probably just left to get pizza,
Or Chinese food,
A regular Friday night.

The sound of the radio hums softly in the background.
The soft rumbling of the engine.
The drumming of the rain.

Not a word is spoken
between my father and I,
Each of us just ******* up the silence.
Breathing peacefully.

Over the radio comes a song.
A little old, though well known.
Ee-e-e-um-um-a-weh
Wimoweh, wimoweh, wehoweh, wimoweh.

We both know this song.
Grinning we turn the radio up.
Singing along. Dancing along.
Um-um-a-weh.

With each beat of the drum
My father touches the brake.
Quickly, rapidly
Making the car ****.

The car behinds us honks the horn
Making us laugh harder.
My dad persists.
Continuing in this child’s play.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter,
that it is pouring, or
that we are stuck in traffic.
It only matters that we are having fun.

The song ends.
The radio gets turned back down.
We return to our former silent state.

There’s I place I go to
When you cross my mind
It’s almost as if your still there
By my side
Whispering in my ear
Caressing my palm

We called it the bridge to nowhere

I remember meeting you there
Sitting near the end
Staring out towards the water
You approaching me

I remember looking up
At your perfect tanned face
Your messy dark hair
Your mesmerizing gold eyes
Casually wearing your football jersey.

I remember your simple hello
Your nervous chuckle
Your silly smile.

I remember smiling back
And inviting you to sit.

Our first meeting on the bridge to nowhere

I remember sneaking out after dark
To meet you there
Just to lay on the bare wooden boards
Staring at the moon

I remember the smell of flowers that spring
branches blooming nearby
The smell of smoke and spices
Forever embedded in your clothes.

I remember your singing
Sweet nothings
in Spanish
Softly in my ear

Entwined together on the bridge to nowhere

I remember your high school graduation
Your mother so proud
Your sister excited
Your father crying

I remember your first game in college
Your running onto the field
Pride and joy in your eyes
Though you didn’t play
Because of that sprained wrist

I remember your sweaty embrace
And your ramblings
of the game
Reviewing every play
Your eyes shimmering with excitement

Racing to the bridge to nowhere

I remember that call
Which changed my life
My heart stopped
I couldn’t think

I remember rushing
to the hospital
Crying with your little sister
Collapsed on the floor

I remember your bloodied face
Wrapped in linen
Tubes bursting from your chest

I wanted to race to the bridge to nowhere

I remember spending my nights
Curled by your side
Willing you to stay
Strong

I remember that endless tone
That said you were gone

I cried at the bridge to nowhere

I remember curling up in your hoodie
Smelling you
Pretending it was you
Your arms surrounding me

I remember lying by the stone
That recalled your name
Talking to you
Burning letters by the small candle

I remember cleaning out your room
With your mother and sister
Finding that little box by your bed
Your final gift to me

I opened it at the bridge to nowhere

I still go there sometimes
With a letter filled
With promises to you
And a flame by which to send it.

Welcome to 4 A.M.

Where almost nothing ever happens and the universe sits mostly still, where indie music is life and where photography is heaven. Where silence is golden and life is absolute. Where we all wish to be, and where only a select few of us can go and handle it.

Welcome to 4 A.M.

Where we lie in limbo, waiting for the sun to come up, the moon to go down, the median between life and whats left of the dark decay of lifelessness. Where Your eyes open wide, where your thoughts wander into the void of the infinite. Where we wait to see the beginning, the middle, and the end.

Welcome to 4 A.M.

Welcome to the dead, the living, the mourning, the crying, the sad, the happy, the over energetic, the under enthusiastic, the over enthusiastic, the insomniac, the insane, the beautiful, the quiet, the peaceful, the thoughtless and thoughtful, the kind, the caring, the listeners, the wonderful and magnificent, the open minded and wide eyed sleepless.

Welcome to 4 A.M.

Where we wander, searching for answers in our sleep. Where we wait for contact and a view into what we think is the future, and where here, we wait for the future. Where we sleep only to be dreaming of our answers we are searching for and never getting the full answer to questions like-
"Who am I?"
"What am I?"
"Who do I love?"
"Who loves me?"
"Why am I here?"
"What awaits me today?"
"Who thinks of me?"
"Who are my friends?"
"Who are my foes?"
"Who are the friendless?"
"Who am I to judge someone?"
"Who are they to judge me?"
"What is left for there to question if I already know the answers to my questions?"

This is what we ask, and wait for...

Welcome to 4 A.M.

Where our mindless infinite, grows! To be ever infinite into the oblivion of exaggerated proportions and ridiculous time! Where everything meets the beginning, the middle and the end. Where life dies, starts, and lives once more for us as humanity to enjoy through one more day, for us to catch our breath, and to breathe the dead and living. For our eyes to capture the very beauty of life through blinking as if our eyes where the lens to a camera and our brains the film to feed it.

All in one quiet, peaceful, beautiful, and insane, hour. Everything lives, dies, and starts over again.

Welcome to the beginning, the middle, and the end.
Welcome to 4 A.M.
Welcome to life.

Good morning.