I watch them all together

My unknown ancestors from houses of mud,
and infants, still shrinking from daylight,

dying people, from halfway across the world,
and young kids elsewhere indulged in dreadful fantasies,

magicians living on impossible stunts,
and musicians voicing rage,

Writers, mechanics, monster-creators,
teachers, playmates, old neighbors,

some of them long forgotten, some only imagined,
some liked, some despised, some who have me surprised,

all share a common hall, and talk in a common tongue,
chat about contemporary things, and things that do not change,
share wisdom, superstitions, unburdened chats,
quarrel over their unbridgeable gaps,
and laugh in disbelief at their differences,

while I watch them all together
under a common sun,
at a common hour,

at night, in my dreams.