Caught by the Breeze

Caught by the Breeze

(“But Ittai said to the king, ‘As the Lord lives, and as my lord the king lives, your servant will be where my lord the king may be, in death or in life.’” 2 Samuel 15:21) 

I.

It was a muggy morning; trash day in the suburbs.
The dogs had been out scrounging hamburger wrappers and
pizza boxes. And the wind blew.

A plastic lid from a large soda was caught by the breeze. Separated,
and turned on its side, the wind pushed it like a wheel down the asphalt
for a block and another. Twice and more it nearly fumbled in the moments
when the breeze was catching its breath. But just as it looked like the lid
would takes its rest within the gutter alone,
a gentle puff started it rolling again.

I watched this airy motion, the lid, the breeze and silent neighborhood trees
as witnesses to the same. Animated by atmosphere alone, the circle of plastic
crossed the street and barely crawled up a concrete driveway a quarter mile
from where it began.

Then, as if the universe had planned it, the solitary lid lay down on the
grass in front of the driveway’s home. And the fan of air blew elsewhere.

I’d rather been moved by the Spirit than coerced by a strong man.

II.

Come walk with me again, friend, life is shorter now than when we began.
Let the Spirit bring you to me again. We have less days to talk about the
ways of compassion, healing, love and revealing the light we both share
in common with all.

In these days of pain the light barely affects the chain of events that memory
brings like a waiter with the same burger I’ve eaten every Friday for years.

But sounds, the sounds jangle. The sounds are worse than toll bells, shakier
than cannon balls, fiercer than jet decibels on the ground. They shake my
nerves until the synapse explode in flame.

But your silence is like a hammer on the anvil of my mind. Your absence has
inverted solitude so I do not know which I should choose: the shock of a
shout across the room, or the weight of silence across the years.

There is more compassion left than holes in our clothes. More forgiveness and
amends,
than sand in our pockets.

So, return my call, answer my letter, let me know that you are better and
we will observe together what
the power of compassion can do.