We Meet People

 Written March, 2010

We meet people. Everyday. Every day. Every single day. 

Ask and you shall receive. Do we ask for all the people we meet? One day, you're walking in bliss or a nightmare, you run or stumble into someone. That someone has depth. You want to explore his ocean. What is it about his water's colors that begs you to take a mental picture after picture? You see one color and then another, realizing they are as vivid and as numerous as there are stars. You want to count them all, see them all, name and understand them all. Do you see yourself in his color scheme, or do you find your complement?

My fingers are pulsating under the keys. I am a certain vibratory configuration. If I were a math equation, what number or letter would I be? Or am I the entire equation? What does my equation say about me? How does my equation fit in with his expression?

He pushes off into the distance with precision and power of a wild animal. The decision about the next step takes longer than the actual action to perform. The decision portion is deliberate, calculating, careful, exploratory. The action is decisive and effortless. There is a sense of self-knowing and doubt. He appears to be singing an original tune, but only few are allowed to hear it. The gaze is down and elusive until that split second when it changes costumes and becomes smart and penetrating. There is simplicity and depth, fear and love, deep understanding and regard, deep caring and appreciation.

And then he sits, closes his eyes, relaxes completely, and bathes in the musical notes enveloping him.