Putting on shoes in the morning- one, then the other
Lift themselves up to push against mountains
The people walking to work with wind in their faces,
The lonely dreamers,
Lovers with full hearts
The tired and exhausted,
The alive ones
The people, continually searching for some glimpse of meaning-
Who knows what they'll find once they go out into the quiet chaos of the world?
The people- find ways to reach the moon and the stars
Yet are still so lost
The people with ideas of sex and sunsets
With secret fears and possibilities of never
With unknowable pains in their hearts and smiles on their faces,
The constant fools- who know it,
Standing still while watching lovers drive away
The people running;
What are they running from? Who are they running to?
The drunk clowns: singing, dancing
"Where to next?" they shout in the streets,
The people LAUGHING
A hysterical laugh: boisterous and loud enough to defy the gods
Shouting to the skies with exaltation,
Is it enough to know that we're all we've got?
The people march on
Because what little else is there to do?
Where are these people?
Deep within the shadows of the moon,
Between the meadows of the sea,
Dark in the crevasses of canyons and flowing rivers
Behind the fluttering of wishes and hopes,
Living in the dreams of babies,
Deep in the bones of the factory worker
And the doubts of the owner of a dying trade
Hidden in the paint strokes of bathroom art,
Smeared in the graffiti of a J Street side alley,
Exploding like atoms and bursting like the minds of thinkers and questioners
And blinding like the rays of the sun,
There lies the will and undying soul of the People, yes.