today, i stopped to watch the creek while the rain dripped on my bare head.
the rain matched my rhythm, the creek matched my rhythm,
the people hunched and hooded had some other tempo to attend to.
me, i am not going places. i’ve never been to places, and i sit here in a place that is really just a placeholder,
a no-place within a place to march in step to the cadence of a fading statement of importance.
unless you think that i am exceptionally deft at dancing to natural melodies,
i can assure you that i’ve been completely convinced too many times to count
that i was going places and had been to places, and that i was sitting on the edge of entering the arena of the stakeholders.
but no race that i entered was a race to even save my face.
before this morning, i hadn’t stopped for a long time–i mean, really, just stopped completely and not cared one whit for which way i went next.
i had grown fearful of the possibility that stopping now would end whatever momentum i had remaining in my complaining muscles.
there would be no stopping until the day the Almighty stopped my breath for good.
but, when i stopped, i felt as if my lungs had finally started breathing
and my heart had started beating to a rhythm that was working its way
under the bridge where i stood watching water, feeling water
without any wonder whatsoever of where the water came from
and where it was going.