A Window Into a Soul

A soul not far from my own,
The sun shining in a different place,
In a different time zone.
A different caution we all create and live,
Of course, for no two tick alike,
No two have the same cogs...

Those things that push us forward
And wind us back,
Grinding forth when we must meet
Ourselves, and two ways to run
The same route, the same process;
Writing, if for the world it is.

Flat dimensions do run forward and back,
After all,
Sifting down to find the "up",
Falling down to rise elsewhere,
Such this life, an infinite stream
Of words, words that live apart.

PS: This was an activity from the Writer's Guild meeting that I had today. It was to interview someone else and learn about them, then write an autobiography for them. This took about four minutes, give or take. I meant for this to be a bit of a portrait.