This is what happened.

I went to cross the street.

I took one step off the curb.

I was in a different country.

I did not know the people.

I could not understand them.

I read their kindness in their eyes.

I hope they saw the same in mine.

I wandered lost on empty streets.

I listened to hear familiar birdsong.

No avail, no avail.

I turned to see a passing train.

I crossed the tracks.

I stumbled on the uneven road.

I was once again on familiar ground.

Nothing had changed.

Except me.

I am a stranger now.

Unseen, unheard.

My footprints disappear in the grass.

and in your time of glory,

be it a public triumph with roaring crowds

or a small glance at a crafted ring,

where do you go?

dip deeply into life’s pleasures and sorrows,

seeking to outrun the whisper of mortality?

memento mori, so live to the limits?

measure your days with careful judgement and thoughtful speech,

the better to hold lightly to this life?

gam zeh yaavor, so consider consequences?

either way, you die.

/