City

Clouds, formed from distant oceans,
sometimes attempt the dropping 
of a blanket of snow on the city,
but the heat of bustling bodies
never seem to allow it to last.

There are so many people here,
that my mind sometimes feels crushed
beneath the weight of their imagined lives.

It sprawls.

I have been traversing it for hours,
legs and wheels whirring around and below me,
and yet on it goes,
out of sight and out of mind,
almost.

It's remarkable that somewhere big enough
to hold the days and dreams of millions,
could be so oppressive,
so constricting in its expansion.

All these lives go on,
and spiral and intersect
and connect and sustain,
into a possible future,
where no four-by-fours,
no cars at all,
wind through these streets,
congesting our lungs.

Where classes are just
for the exploration of expression,
engaging with interest,
for interaction.

Where the national park of the city,
flows with diversity,
braiding humanity with earth.

But for now, it sprawls,
and I search for the hope.

Search for what's beneath the snow.