day #19

FREE WRITE



Sight  

Today I met a stranger in the rain

who asked me which of the five senses I would most easily give up.

Without a moments hesitation or a split second for synapses to fire in my brain I sputtered out: "Sight." 

His wrinkled browns widened in surprise, either at my speed

or my certainty,

     or perhaps both.

Through baffled eyes and a bewildered smile he said "oh, so you've given this one some thought, haven’t you?”

"well, no actually not. But let me explain what I'm thinking, about the other four senses...

I will never give up when I close my eyes and inhale the stuffy antediluvian smell on the north side of the third floor of the UCO library, or the memory of my grandfather's garden that the smell of fresh strawberries will always be my roadmap to, or the instantaneous motherly arms of comfort and security that wrap around me when I smell dryer-fresh laundry…

And I will never give up when I close my eyes and enjoy the pain-relieving taste of McDonalds ice cream with French fries, or the way cold vanilla ice cream and warm chocolate brownies makes such a heavenly racial flavor that propels from my lips to my abdomen and finds equality in which my stomach’s scream finds solace, or the refreshing taste of sweet-candied sun tea on a steamy summer afternoon mixed with great conversation…

And I will never give up when I close my eyes and relish in the jumble of mixed melodic phrases sounding from backstage at Carnegie Hall as my symphony is warming up, or the liberation of music at highway volume on the drive home that is a staple in my daily emotional healing process, or the way every voice we recognize sounds different ten feet away than when it's intimately close…

And I will never give up when I close my eyes and experience the rush that floods my body when my ilium is touched, or the comfort I’m filled with when my favorite childhood stuffed animal is pressed against my cheek, or the way these fat rain drops splatter on my barren skin and leave me feeling clean, and new again… "

He stands there and listens as I enlighten him, seemingly shocked that a young girl took the time to stand in the rain and answer a strangers question. He tries to argue and says "well, what about all the wonderful things you'd miss without sight." But I interrupt him… and continue…

I said… “I don't know about you, but let me tell you about my favorite moments:

Dreaming

when my mind is only capable of this untamed imagination in slumber, and my brain is not allowed interference…

Feeling

his breath on me; forgetting all the tension of the week and solely being able to hold on tightly to this emergent anticipation at the possibility of this first kiss…

Raising

my hands and lifting my solitary song mixed with the cohesive voice of the congregation of my brothers and sisters, praising my God…

Standing

in the front row of a small-venue rock concert with my fist in the air, singing in unison with the emotion opposite the mic…

Stepping

outside on a cool October morning and inhaling a fresh supple breeze after a hot harsh summer…

Letting go

and finding release in crying my eyes out after the exhausting act of pretending to live for years…”

I open my eyes only to find my new friend had also closed his as he listened to me.  He looks up, wrinkles lifted slightly, and browns a little brighter, and he replies… "yes, my dear, I believe you are correct. The best things happen with our eyes closed."