WHO ARE THEY?

 Riding a crowded subway train
is like wading through hell for them.
They see ahead and behind.  (So clearly)
They see past, present and future in a glance.

Grief is etched in auras. (Plain to see)
Joy is like a bright orange balloon.
Sadness is draped in blue.
Anger is a red and black glowering cloud.

They barricade their mind
when faced with too much drama. (It's safer)
They move in silence in chaotic crowds.
They don't let on that they're hiding.

They're here to help but
so often their aid is denied. 
The Knowing is theirs alone. 
They retreat to hermitage to survive.

Time travellers of the heart, are they.
They know more of your life than you.
You'll find them quietly observing. (They watch you)
You'll find them when you don't look.

They see too much to bear, at times.
They have to turn away. (For peace, for peace)
They see the outcome of every choice.
The inevitable chills their souls.

These are the wandering souls who bear the weight.
There's no ease for their burden.  (It's forever)
Their only joy is when a careful word
brings hope where none was to be found.

You'll know them by their direct and steady gaze.
X-Ray vision is their norm. (The gift of Sight)
There's no hiding from their knowing.
It's better to trust they mean no harm.

Who are they? 
Really, I shouldn't say.
(You'll know, in time)

 ©Ellen Pepper 2026