at the airport

At the airport...waiting and sourrounded by people that are also waiting. Waiting for that person that must come for business, for holidays, for personal reasons, for family, for love. I have seen them all they come smartly dressed in suit, tennis shoes, flowered shorts, cowboy boots, dressed as nuns, I have also seen many cultures mixing in the multitude, muslims, christians, jewish. I have seen how they shake hands, how they hug and kiss each other. I have seen when the boyfriend arrives and the girlfriend is waiting, when they find each other and hug for a long moment, and then cry. I have seen all those scenes. In the meantime, I am the one traveling, going from place to place, meeting the people and even waiting for them. But this is only going to be for a moment. Next time I am going to meet you and will be with my arms wide open to welcome you. Next flight is going to be for us. Because I am already waiting for you. Then all those people are going to see us, the business man, the nun, the tourist, and they are going home with that picture in their minds. When they see us how we hug each other at the airport.