Window seats

pic courtesy: arpan, alan :)

(Originally published on my Medium page)

Things go smooth;
They sometimes do!
Like cruising on
Highway one-two.
Takes but a snap
To break the nap
And bring us back
To sober truths.

The view, in fact?
A tightrope act!
With people rapt
Like puny ants;
Clinging o’er a
Web of strands,
With their burdens
On their backs.

Like mongrels for
The morsels wait.
At times we must
To meet our fate.
Our love, our hate,
Our gain and pain,
E’er wonder, how
Much will remain?

The ‘lil child asks,
“Why me? Why me?”
“Who am I?”
“Pray, do what must we?”
Some spend their lives
In quests like these;
Some fold their legs
And smile in peace.

Some travel far,
Some venture near.
But glad are those
On window seats
Who see the trees,
Smell the rain,
Hear the birds,
And kiss the breeze!