People come to me

Sometimes I don’t know why,

Connections happen most unexpectedly.

In a coffee shop, over tea

I met a man who traveled the world,

He teaches Reiki, he paints and writes poetry.

On a bus I met a woman with her family

Who teaches high school, and sings in a choir.

At an aura workshop I met a woman

A healer, who reads tarot cards, and writes brilliantly.

In a store I met a man

An artist who sketches and draws, who speaks with such eloquence.

On a train, on a plane,

A bench on the street.

I hear the stories, people need to tell.

One look, one smile and the stranger is off,

I’ve heard of lost loves,

Of heartbreaking family affairs,

Or drunken debacles, and broken bones,

I’ve heard of new births and new loves.

I don’t have to ask

They all start to share.

An aura of love that’s what I have,

It huge and encompassing

It brings people in.

I make the connection.

I meet for the first time

A person who

Feels they’ve known me forever.

It’s quite miraculous.

When I stay open,

I meet the most interesting people

Have wonderful conversations and

Learn many things.

Meetings are the stuff of stories

The beginnings and endings

Meetings keep life fun.  


I was in the airport yesterday picking up my Grandfather, and thinking about how much I love the airport. I love all the people going to and fro. Inevitably in the half an hour I was standing there waiting some people came up to me and asked me to take a picture. You see I guess I’m what you would call a people magnet. Somehow no matter where I am going, I always end up talking to new people. Every train I’ve been on, every plane I’ve taken – I’ve always heard stories about someones life. It’s fascinating to me, hence this poem.

When have you struck up conversation with someone new?


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