Waiting At the Crossroads

I stare at the blues and oranges of the world refusing to be pressured there is such beauty in everyday things even the railroad track signs how many people have gone past this site without seeing any of it? how many people have cried tears here? can they be scooped up and reused or are they forever glued to this crossroad? a car honks impatience wants me out of the way I am not ready the time is now and I am here for a reason. I sit firmly, waiting for a sign.