We come into this world
on an endlessly moving stream,
a moving sidewalk if you like,
carrying us to our final port of call.
Apparently alone,
a host of others,
on their individual conveyor belts,
follow along
as we continue our relentless journey
through the tunnel of life.
In passing,
scenes flash by
on either side.
Sometimes we reach out,
touch momentarily
before we, or they, move on,
or remain behind.
The multitudes, once familiar,
give way to unknown others.
One by one,
our travelling companions
drop by the wayside.
Or having reached their journey’s end
leave us plodding along behind.
As our conveyor belt
heads for that unknown destination,
we are once more alone.
Although on second thought
if we have loved
we will not be alone .
There is no turning back.
The path we follow
was set when we began.
Our destination predetermined
as we move on through darkness
into what we hope is light.
Erika Bizzarri 
Dear Erika,
My thoughts exactly.
Very nice.
Write on!
Love,
David
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Ah, the conveyor belt! I associate it with airports, one of my least favorite liminal zones, where more often than not, the belt meant to convey us is so often out of order: “GUASTO!”
As was the case with your Finnish glass piece, I couldn’t help but notice my reluctance to comment on this one. But at the moment I’m feeling like a completist.
I guess I agree with everything you say here about the solitary nature of our respective journeys—especially the last lap. But I want to keep in mind the redemptive part: “Although on second thought if we have loved we will not be alone.” PS: I never like those conveyor belts. After a long plane trip, it feels good to put one foot in front of the other on my own steam.
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