Boxcars

 

We never know
When it’s gonna hit

 

Confusion or bliss
Turmoil or peace

 

Have any experience long enough
And we start thinking it’s gonna stick

 

But it never does

 

This life is a train passing by
Car after car offering
one experience after another

 

In which ones do we want to linger?
From which ones do we want to escape?

 

Is there a reality outside of this train?
And from There, is there any reality in it?

 

Who is the Watcher of the train?

 

Who remains unattached to the experiences within?

 

We ride for the thrill of it
Or we disembark and rest

 

And we realize we have that choice

Or we don’t

 

Either way, when we die
We sink back into the Watcher
Whether we choose to or not

 

The train disappears

 

And all that’s left is…

 

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