Ahhhh . . . (Public transporation - August 5th, 2006)

Sitting on the bus, reading Virginia Woolf. Joining in her questions. heat seeping through the windows, piercing my arm as the cool air above me pours down. My gaze lifts from the page. Lands on a bride to be, seen through a shop window. I watch as the curtain is drawn back adn she steps out - shy, unsure. I'm granted a glimpse of this private world. she holds her hands to her waste, slightly, she smiles. It vanishes to a blush of nervousness, uncertainty.

The shopkeeper motions, her mough and expression showing excitement, eagerness - the expectation of a sale. The women with her show encouragement. Revel in her beauty. She turns, they hold up the train. Joy. I've been allowed to witnes Joy - separate from me but there nonetheless. Unbeknownst to them it passes, seeps through the glass, into the heat of the world outside them. Through the pane against my arm, the pane that gives me warmth as the cool air descends. It journeys inoto my soul. Connecting. Renewing. (The light changes, I am pulled away but the gift remains.)

Joy - in the world. In so many lives. Now in mine. Joy at being able to move, to think, to breathe. Joy in my emptiness, my loneliness, my tattered and uncertain hopes and dreams - ripped, that fell with a dull crash . . . drifted away with a key stroke. I walk through the underground - vibrant life (where once there was darkness) surrounds me. A man smiles, deep lines shape his face. Crinkled with the passage of time. A couple revel in touch, in the connection that ignites their eyes. What was lost rises up gently. Slowly. Gathering together - I'm still underground in the heat of civilization. But soon - I approach the steps. I cannot see it yet but I know the sun is there. It shines . . . a breeze that began with God's first breath in this world caresses me - it moves past - journey's on to greet me in my future, to travel far beyond my breath in this world.