Separate, yet one

We live our lives as separate people might go about a subway car, but just like that car rolling on the tracks we are together, moving past eachother trying to get to where we want to be. The roar and bussle of the day is constant yet stagnant while we all come and go as we please.

The evening of the day brings a more somber feeling as the sky assumes autumn hues and the soul becomes restful and weary. Those of us that relish in the dew of night might not be so eager for sleep, but still a sense of settled motion overlays itself upon the house.

Such are the moods of Flock Hall as I can percieve them... we stand as trees within a forest. Separate yet one.

namaste