The Man With The Tan Skin Comments

The night’s heavy thoughts stood soundlessly for a moment, just a short moment awkwardly between the crowd of excited subway riders,
and I in the midst of both. Thoughts and questions that I’ve asked, not yesterday but yesteryear and even farther beyond my present. recollection. These thoughts jumped on my inner canvas, like escapees slung from treetops, or launched from black water onto a passing train. They came when I first understood the name that my mother called, my name, not realizing at that very moment my existence has crossed over the threshold of a nameless universe, to join the mass of citizens, citizens of this impermanent world.
Tilting my head slowly toward mother’s voice while passionately playing with my toys; building my own world with plastic and metal toy cars, horses and knights, airplanes and rockets, all living and guarding the castle of legos of green, red and yellow citizens; they and time, moved in the sweeping waves of my eye. Everything was there. What wasn’t was not a loss; and what was lost was found again, reaching into the shadow of furniture where spiders, like me have built themselves a quiet world; no plentitude of light, but what was present was enough.
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