What made them who they are?

What pains and struggles embittered their past?

And I wonder if they are held by the same wonder.

Yes, a curious thing as I enter the train.

Multitudes of people standing and sitting.

Is the force of their movement the same behind the rain?

 

What do they feel about the sunshine? Or the rain?

Are they focused on what will or what are?

I'm not sure; at least from where I'm sitting.

Examining their appearances, I try to dig into their past,

but before I even have a glance, they're off the train.

So I sit, still with this wonder.

 

Yet, there is still another wonder.

People walked past him like rain.

Too much in a hurry, too busy to catch a train.

I find it odd, these humans we are.

Only a few stopped to give, but most went past.

And I? An opportunity lost - gone and in a train sitting.

 

I whisper a faithless prayer; I'm tired of sitting,

so I stand, and I wonder

what made her stay, while I walked past.

Then I thought, if not God, who sent the rain?

And if His hands aren't responsible then whose are?

Perhaps, it is those on this train.

 

So it was fate that we entered the same train.

I can still see them looking from where I was sitting.

Don't you know who they are?

But it was only her familiar smile that caught my wonder.

I needed a storm, but it gave little rain,

so I can't seem to remember the name from my past.

 

And just how many people have we walked past?

Forgotten, like the people on the train.

Bye-bye, they're just a dot in this rain,

and from where I am sitting

I really do still wonder:

Will I ever know who they are?

 

So I don't walk past and I don't stay sitting

by or on this train because I don't need to wonder.

These million drops of rain? Someday I'll know who they are.