From Ruins to Orchids

Fingers twisted, gripping suitcase handles branded by international tickets
Standing on train platforms, Glass tap, tap, tapping From Ruins to Orchids
Second guessing time, "When? Where?" Staring at mounted clocks scared
of the thought that seconds just might decide to be less than 'one Okayama, two'.
Heads turned, "Who's that American girl?" Overly cheerful voices streaming over intercoms
Eyes meeting at moments where lonely crossroads are left proclaiming that
Everything Starts Where it Ends, thrown into new challenges better suited
Mocking all the machine people, lost in translation, passing by, emotionless
Pungent patterns past the raspy voiced vendors asking to try takoyaki or yakitori
Telling stories of families milling rice patties, making it, always thankful.
Suspended in time, words slicing by like scissors, my everything waiting
For that moment mine will walk up and make it all make sense, cradled
Riding home in Shinkansen cars abated 4 months, stable; instant glorification.

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