Observations

29 Aug

see

I watch myself grow older and I think it’s funny who I thought I’d be at 24 when I was 18.

I watch people interact, awkwardly dancing around conversation and meaning and I think it’s funny I ever believed love was a formula.

I watch babies being born and new things happening and wonder why I am still here.

I watch the branches move in the breeze and know it’s all gonna be ok.

For sleepless nights, instead of medicine my father prescribes finding a drop of water on a leaf and studying it, until I find God.   I have to laugh not just because it’s priceless advice, but because I see myself in him the more I become myself.

I watch the world grow more advanced, and jump on the band wagon, watching the stream dry up and meadows turn to hay, as we roll on by, into rush hour traffic.

I watch each soul stuck in their boxes and want to yank open the door of the zoo and the church and the school and the office and scream, “YOU ARE FREE!”

I laugh at the thought then sadden, because I realize they already believe they are.

I watch slaves with shackles on their ankles labor, digging in the dirt in the hot sun, glaring at me as I sit under a tree and observe.

This time, I can’t laugh.

I cry because I know the chains are paper constructed and the dirt’s made of chocolate and  the sun is crayola drawn with a smiley face, and there is friendly owl who lives in the tree, offering an endless supply of lemonade to anyone who would sit under in its shade.

I watch the world spinning and machines going and boxes not breaking, because FEAR holds them together, and I laugh and cry and swallow my pride and get up and stand on the side of the street and announce,

“It’s done.”

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