life is a bus we board
from different stops,
at different times,
headed to different destinations.
sometimes we stand on the bus.
sometimes we sit.
sometimes we close our eyes
and lean our head on the shoulder next to ours.
sometimes we know where to get off.
and sometimes we don’t.
sometimes we’re too scared so we keep riding the bus.
sometimes we take a chance and jump off.
eventually, we ride the bus to the station.
the end of the line.
and it’s time to get off.
sometimes sooner than expected.
we say goodbye to our fellow travelers.
we see faces of sorrow
and tears of grief.
we remind them that the final destination
has always been the same,
will always be the same.
it is the journey that has made the trip worthwhile.
—
in memory of Clint who would have been 41 years old today
15 comments
You don’t do yourself justice. This was a lovely, poignant poem.
Thanks, my friend. Our neighbor died suddenly Monday morning and it’s been weighing on my mind.
Sorry about the loss of your neighbor but this was a very nice way to remember him and how life short can be!
Thanks, Melisa. I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
“sometimes we close our eyes
and lean our head on the shoulder next to ours.”
And that is what it’s all about, indeed.
So very sorry for such an unexpected heartbreak. Thinking of you, friend.
Thanks, Daune. Are we two a bundle of emotions? {hugs} to you.
Really great poem & a beautiful way to honor your neighbor.
Thanks, Alex, for reading.
What beautiful words! Everyone will reach their destination one day, it’s either earlier or sooner. 🙂
Thanks for reading, truly.
I love this. I never would have thought to compare life to a bus ride. Very cleaver. I’m sorry to hear about the passing of your neighbor.
Thanks for your thoughts, Carri.
Lovely poem. Thanks for sharing.
And thanks for reading, Stephanie.
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