I open my door and step into the Stream of Life flowing past it.
As usual, I feel I have started late, but I am actually right on time. Now being the only time I could have started.
People, bikes, dogs, skateboards of various sizes, types and locomotion create the waves that carry me along.
Hidden away from sight and sitting in plain view, is a Buddha.
The plants around him long withered, his silent vigil held in the company of a trash bin, locked behind bars. Still, his countenance is untroubled.
Legs and arms move forcefully through the Stream. The oars pressing on.
Breath fills the great sails of my lungs and I glide toward the train.
The way is known without thinking. I will make it, but barely.
Hayro said, “The way is an open-eyed man falling into a well.”
My eyes are open. I see the well.
But I am still so foolish as to hope I will not fall.
The last quarter mile is a sprint, with all the time in the world.
I make it, but barely, and the doors close to my back.
What did you see?
#mymorningwalk