The world is full of them.
Billions to be exact.
People who tremble at the edges of your life always on the edge of touching what is yours.
Some of these will pass on, staying shadows—but some will step into the light of your life, becoming visible.

Strangers can become lovers. Eyes met over squeezing bread at the supermarket.
Those eyes could become the center of your heart.

Streams of strangers jostling by in the street—A steady blur of the unknown.
Does a face emerge from the blur? Does a face turn your way?

Picked out from the great field of human life like a single blade of grass.
What about you makes that stranger want to pluck you out from the soil which you are accustomed?
The way you bend in the wind? The texture of your green? Your delicate nature perhaps.

On and on we walk the circumference of the globe, all the strangers spinning the Earth around and around.
Yes that’s right, did it  not occur to you before?

You too are a stranger.

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