My little island

They lie as though time is a meaningless ordeal to be borne by the world around them.

Yet their eyes are waiting...perhaps for the world to start spinning, the clock to start ticking.

I lie amongst these souls on moist caked soil carpeted with patches of grass that seems to grow almost reluctantly as though wary of being tread upon.

My eyes stop to feel those determined stares & bulging veins, in a concentration so fierce, so hopeful...

Each has a past, present and future, a tale of sadness & joy, of comforts & tribulations, of victories & defeats.

There seems to be an invisible chord that unites our lives.

That chord is this moment of stillness we share.