The couple across the hall are in the worst of it. They can’t hear it, I hear it all. Their voices walking on top of another, I’m sure of it, I can hear it. They can’t see what beautiful things are outside. Right outside the window. Right now journal, there’s a young girl walking in the middle of the street. The black tar open highway, balancing the dividing yellow street line, playing hopscotch. She has pigtails and I think a lollipop. Anyway, they can’t see it, I’ve been staring out of this window for an hour. She dances and turns and weaves throughout the traffic and cars with the freedom of the newly redeemed. She knows where to find God and she is walking into the storm, into it’s black eye anger, waving her arms, she calms it, she calms me. She brings my heart to ease while across the hall - I want to throw myself through their door, broken, into their arms. Lead them to the window, point out and say, “Look...eternity.”
Only I can see her, and she dances on, wild soul