In the vestibule of fate
I check my hat and coat, and smile politely;
The corridor conveys
A sense of quiet, and staid anticipation;
Then the concierge appears,
And directs me to a room that says come right in;
Sorry for the wait –
Says the man who booked my ticket past the future.
As a second ticks by forever,
I’m looking back over my shoulder,
And the face that I see in the mirror,
Looks like me, but when I was older.
As I amble through this world,
I never fix my mind upon the outcome;
Walking to a bridge,
The path beneath my feet is concentrated;
Precious is the place
Between my thoughts so myriad arising;
Simple is the state,
And secret paths will always end in silence.
As a second ticks by sedately,
The face disappears in a fleeting,
And brightly I see there reflected,
A mirrored refrain of forever.
A second ticks by forever.