My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry

everybody has a story to tell

he told me
as we sat in our corner of the pub
sipping coke and coffee
instead of guinness and cider
eating potato salad and pickles
transported for a few hours from our rainy city

it would make no difference where we were
for if we listened past the rain
beyond the chatter all around and songs in the air
we would find a heartbeat

faint to the undeserving ear
yet driving the lives intercepting with each other
in this moment

seemingly isolated
but moving in time
an opus of exemplum


paul had a lovely day he said smiling

nathan was getting a headache and his vision was blurred she remembered

walter missed the house especially all the friends who visited

barbara was dizzy and had to sit and rest

gweneth's husband left her lonely and her hair fell out

all this they told me freely

he cared for the most notorious criminal in the prison

his foot was run over by a wheelchair and his hand was hurting he narrated

her son and daughter were both divorced

it was likely her son's fault the marriage failed

her grandmother and grandfather never spoke to each other she freely shared

all in a few short hours

all this music
the dirges and jigs

every heart heavy with its sorrows and joys

you just have to listen in order to hear it