Little Econ

Where do you want to go today? Where do you want to fly to? I heard the beach was free today. I suggest we purchase the finest sand and run it between our toes. I heard the sky was not scheduled to fall. The paper told all the early morning coffee drinkers that it is recommended that we invest in celebration and reserve a table in someone else’s kitchen to cook a warm dinner and exchange beliefs between bites about what the differences between talents and trades are. It would be nice. That mother told her daughter it was time to play outside because winter was going back into hiding the sun was going to return to shining. 
Boys play soccer on a field by the Little Econ river. They weave past each other and kick hard against the dirt, while the water beside them curves around the land and under the bridge. There’s thirty six birds in a metropolis of trees with their wings like impenetrable arms wrapped tightly around their sides. Birds make themselves into offices spaces tiny and closed off, and tree branches look like chaotic skyscraper floors. But it’s a very quite day at this office, and nobody yells deadlines, and no wind furiously blows against the trunks, no threats to unearth this city. It’s a green forest with yellow and orange lights from the dying changing leaves. The the trees stare at their reflections on the water and familiar faces, practicing what expression they want the sky to see when he stares down. 
There’s just enough people in the park to assure me that isolation and desolation are foolish fears, but there are few enough people that I can think and breath and pray and plan my mistakes without judgement. There are few enough people that I can sit against brown unruly tree roots and softly cry about the world without worrying about becoming dirt or drowning in the placid water. My eyes see cotton clouds trying to shower down, but missing. My eyes see blue hope streaming across the sky, and not a single busy airplane interrupts my silence. 
You run by. I do not know you. But I smile and this time I mean it. I want you to feel the beauty of this place to. I want you to know that nature is not the enemy. I want you to know I am hellbent on surviving, and I can prove to be an unstoppable force. I will be more successfully grandiose than you would ever expect, imagine, fear or dream. I will be as still as water and as strong as currents. I will be as quiet as morning and as bright as moonlight. I will be okay.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *