If I were to ever pray, as I haven’t yet beckoned this sort of spell-casting in my blip of an existence, I would do so for two reasons. 1.) I ask for the will and grace to weather the storms that invade our lives like the battalions of foamy waves that the tide deploys upon the shore. I hail from a long line of cowards and though I, at times feel myself to exude the most radical sort of cowardice, my second prayer would come into play here. 2.) I ask and hope that the seed of my soul matures by the time it is reaped and or harvested.
I see so many souls in my travels and accompanying them are the most beautiful smiles. I often daydream that one of these souls and their smiles would one day come to be because of me and my actions. Have you noticed how much light a strangers’ smile can shed into your day? This person, with a story of their own that I haven’t yet heard, beaming in the wake of it All and when they do it feels as though it was always okay to exhale in the midst of the unknown.
Never in the history of the world (to my awareness) have I seen this outstanding potential for us all to be connected, be it technologically or socially, and to be so fantastically disconnected simultaneously. In ratio to how many people are on this planet, I find it absolutely heart-wrenching that anyone can feel lonesome at all. The loneliness I have felt has been so heavy at times that it has felt comparable to stomach-twisting starvation. Everyone should feel that hungry, not once in their lives but at the least twice in a decade, only to feel what it is like to be utterly alone. Twice a decade so they can remember it the next time they state a hurtful statement or commit a hurtful crime. Bukowski once speculated our souls to germinate from the very pit of our stomachs and I’m inclined to agree.
There aren’t many things left in my world to make me weep, but sometimes when it’s dark and my eyes have adjusted to the stillness of night I weep over everyone I have met and they whom I’ve not yet had the pleasure. I’m aware of it being silly, but it wasn’t always considered silly and that’s exactly what I mean. It’s like I extend my hand in fair faith even though I know no one would reach for it. If they say Jesus was the beginning and the end, the first and the last (like the Barry White song) then surely, he must have seen this too. When tears are shed in the shadows is when I want to hold someone the most.
Though I know the person in my caress cannot make things better, they certainly can make things seem less dark. And maybe it’s because when they are held, they are also held deep in your heart.
Bad poetry aside, it is a complete wonder to me that I’ve chosen to stay among the living.