How would my life change
if I allowed the street artist,
the person talking to themselves,
the young musician,
the praying beggar,
to stop me in my tracks?

How would my life change
If I struck a conversation with
the woman from lands afar,
wearing a hijab,
wearing aged wrinkles,
pulling her trolley along the aisle?

How would my life change
if, while penning these lines,
listening closely within,
I would miss
the announcement
of a platform change for my train?

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

This poem was composed on 2^nd September 2026, capturing the unfolding experience and actually almost missing the platform change for my train. I love those moments when life itself becomes poetry and I can listen with a thousand ears!