Tag Archives: light

In me and out there


As the train transits across the city sky
I feel rather like I am floating, blue and bright
past the tumble and tangle of rooftop and wire
through the endless echo of light

The streets I have wandered in are but a fingertip
in a city that stretches across for arms lengths
I hear your dismay in my ear
asking, “How do you make sense of this?”

I waver towards the driver’s doors
as around me the empty cabins dissolve
into light, scattering across the sky
And I fast forward in time

And there is me ten years from now,
waking up to a table of light
glimmering on yesterday’s unfinished words
in the same bright room I have slept in, alone, for years
But suddenly in a completely
different place

I stand there, wondering where to search
to find this that is slipping out of my fingers
Perhaps I will find you in the very last cabin
or perhaps somewhere in between the lines
In me and out there,
nowhere and everywhere.

The words came to me as I rode the JR lines through Tokyo, particularly on those sunny days where if you were on board at the right time, you would see light flooding into the cabin through the windows. After a long period of rain, sunlight is always startling, as was my realisation about just how expansive this city actually is.