On the Day of MLK’s “Dream” – A Thought on Aliveness

The perfect scent of an August morning. The still reservoir, a sheet of glimmering glass.

Think of all the people pursuing their hopes, unrecognized, perhaps unpaid, for their inventions, creations, solutions – or just for surviving.

Sunlight strikes the small branch of a wayside bush, shaft meeting shaft. A flame-reflection bursts from a taxi in the distance, then vanishes.

A scowling artist pushes his easel and paints up a hill, mulling where to pause.

Towhead twins jog with their mother, one leaping to touch the leaves above.

It is not the loose-weave of these forgotten moments that carry us forth – or is it?

 

- on the anniversary of MLK’s ‘I Have a Dream’ Speech