Until I circled upon a view of the water, the porch lights of homes turning on all over the hillside, the seagulls and ducks in a row. They rocked peacefully on the waves in the aftermath of the setting sun. Suddenly the crowd of people reminded me that I live in community, sharing life and the running|walking|dog-filled|stroller-strewn path.
I paused in my moment of zen to snap a photo. It's actually easy to feel connected here, to return to this moment.
|Reservoir at dusk, through the chain link.|
Where is the connectedness here? When I realize that the boys are BOYS. They are bored, and have nothing better to do on a Saturday. Angry-girl may have had a hard day, or a hard life, and has put up a wall to protect her vulnerability that has been shattered when offered to those also living in pain, and unable to hold it with care. (I don't know about the guy sharing his bad music with all who happened to choose his same train car. He's just rude.)
When I close my book, take out my earbuds, and pay attention, I see, just like the ducks resting on the water, the peace behind the chaos.
“Anyone who says, 'Here’s my address, write me a poem,' deserves something in reply. So I’ll tell you a secret instead: poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes, they are sleeping. They are the shadows drifting across our ceilings the moment before we wake up. What we have to do is live in a way that lets us find them." ~Naomi Shihab Nye