.37.

I walked downtown today. I passed a man on the street whose back was bent and broken. He lingered with me as I passed him. I circled around casually, hesitating in giving him the only thing I had - my hands. yet, there I was, next to him - scratching and rubbing his back, talking to him with glimmers of smiles. I felt his spine erupting out of his structure mid-way down. I continued to touch, as much as I didn't know, I wanted to. His demeanor was simple and joyful - "feels good to get the stiffness out." He noted in a smilin' & mumblin' drawl. My hand was tingling. The whole world had disappeared. Sunlight, with kaleidoscopic shapes, was all there was. I left him so quickly, saying 'good-day' and peeking a smile seemed like a haunting doubted thought.

I wandered into the Cultural Center. As I walked around, I could feel an unsettling nausea begin to grow in my stomach. I just wanted to find a space that would hold me long enough that I could let myself go. I meandered through the lost hallways of the gorgeous building and came across a white room with a baby grand. No one was around. I went and sat at the piano and wondered what song the world would play, if it were to play through me. Suddenly I broke. I cried for everything I didn't know, I cried in gratitude of everything I do know. I cried for the man on the street - how he was the one that touched me. I cried for the squirrel I saw whose death came as life past it by. I cried for everything to an open expanse. a broadening - a widening.

And then my fingers felt the keys, and a melody shone for a moment, before it passed into an ambiguity, so unknown to me - yet is so completely all of me.