If you spend an hour a day traveling by car in a metropolitan area you probably spend an average of twenty minutes in front of a red light. It means that you consume 7300 minutes a year or 121 hours, or 5 days of the year waiting for a green light. That’s a lot, especially for people who live the busy existence of a big city. Image what could you do with 5 extra days in your year; catch up sleep, read great books, play golf, tennis, take a nice vacation to the beach.
Anyway, this is the reason of my poem Red Lights.
Red lights
In front of a red light – for the thousandth time –
I’m sensing that life is a chain of waitings.
Waiting to grow up, waiting to graduate, waiting for a good job
Waiting for her, waiting to retire, waiting for god.
I’m permanently waiting in a loop of waitings until I don’t remember
What am I waiting for.
Always waiting for something or someone
I ignore stars, overlook smiles and devour time dreaming of rainbows.
Living in virtual stupor I suppose I’m waiting to die
And then the light turns green…
2 comments:
Wonderful Carlos. At least your thinking while waiting. The words waiting to be discovered at a red light are timeless.
Before retiring to Spain I commuted two hours to work and two hours home again and to not waste that time waiting to get there I'd spend my time in words, inwards.
There is indeed a loop of waitings. Good write!
Unknowngnone, thank you, you are so kind. It's great that you retire to Spain, Madrid?
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