Friday, March 20, 2020

Only Love Is Real *. Perspective 1

Some spirits witnessed the scenes of the day with a star’s eye view, others chose to sit within the earthly bounds. Watching as the people stumbled and faltered to a halt, stunned as if they were suddenly held by some invisible hand that could grasp the whole planet in it’s palm.

The life they had been acting in, day in day out had been put on a pause. A pause to bring back something precious.

A gift not of stagnancy, but of a rejuvenating stillness to awaken the soul…would they remember how to be?
…the spirits gathered, to witness the awakening. Time moved just as it always had. Yet earthly human perception sat in its puzzle.
Adam stood at his kitchen window, mindlessly washing his plate. His gaze found his own reflection in the glass. The outer city lights framed his frown of confusion. He sighed and his belly grumbled in time with a volcano far away. 
“what do I do now? I have been standing at my cash register for years, it’s all i know, what am I supposed to do if I don’t work?”
A seven year old Alina sat on her bed and smiled. She could hear her family in the next room. She had snuck away for a moment, only to stretch her face into this odd and full feeling of elation. It felt nice to be home, yet she almost felt guilty about that. The two feelings combined made her squeeze herself tight. She didn’t like school. She always felt stupid there, and trapped. She suddenly felt free. Never had she known a time where games would be played together, all together. This made her happy. Was that ok? Outside her window, the seed of a flower pushed a root outward, shifting the soil.
Karen reached her hand out to grasp the cool pole and the train shifted in its journey. She was going to keep moving as long as she could. Who the hell wanted to stay in? What was the point of stopping to think? Whatever was going to happen, well, its was going to happen anyway, right? She had no power over it. The train lurched and stopped. As she stepped onto the frozen snow her foot left an impression that altered the cold earth. Each step leaving a mark behind her.
Sweat beaded on Juan’s forehead. He grabbed a towel and dabbed his face. “This is not so bad” A fever can be a good thing. I needed a little detox. He listened to his family whisper from the porch, and then snort in laughter. He smiled as if he was just given a precious gift. He recalled his own childhood and blessed this illness for bringing an easy afternoon back to him. A breeze floated through the window, touching his face and the outline of his sigh. His sigh held a thousand kisses of life and a thousand more to come. Healing was at hand.
...to be continued.

*image: Christian Schloe

No comments:

Post a Comment