Some might say she didn't play her hand right.
That more than a few regrets had landed her here.
In disarray.
Here in the warming huddle that her earth squat and compression of core body heat thighs against belly thighs against chest head curled down to meet threadbare aging and aching knees. Knees that took her on long searches of safe spaces.
Yes, there are those who would chalk her up a series of mistakes.
Others might not even notice.
From her crouched position she is but invisible to their hurried must go and get that thing, that thing, that thing. that is. really. important.
But if she were fluorescent she would still blend in.
Assimilate with signs and digits and beeps and chatter and facebook and running stories that occupy their beautifully tended headspace.
And then them.
Them that open windows and peer into cracks that transcend anything other than what is now.
They look but see, feel but sense, hear but listen.
They don't waste time letting love out and then in.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
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Well written, with a sage ending!Really enjoyable!
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by my blog and leading me back here!
Peace Giggles
Hey Jen,
ReplyDeleteThis is as deep and spouts a philosophy I agree with. Your wit, close to sarcasm fits well with the regret prompt, too. "But if she were florescent she would still blend in."
I like how you contrast nature/knowing oneself/being tuned in to one's senses vs. the robotic (Punctuation brilliantly shows this: "that thing, that thing, that is. really. important."), faceless, technological disassociation I fear has become too much a part of our modern world.
I feel that has already affected human relationships. " Assimilate....beeps...facebook...that occupy their beautifully tended headspace." Isn't it interesting that such people probably are unaware of the regrets they WILL have due to this way of living?