Electric

I feel electric walking through a park engulfed with happy princes, children skipping, people playing to their laughter. singing strings of guitars in this park the mirth of drooping spilling coins in their cases. child giggles splashing joy in the fountain. small city dogs smirking for attention. I saunter through this joyous fest like I’m floating on clouds like the motion has stopped and I’m living the middle of a circus dream. an elevated sparkling wonder of spinning humanity in Rittenhouse square.

I’m knowing. that only a moment ago I was above it all, on top of the world. no less than thirty-five stories up in the midst of wonder I saw blocks upon blocks below, mile after endless mile. the hearts and souls the vagabond years of Philadelphia laying down its life before me. The small parapet, my foot on the edge of the swirling tiptoe top of the building. foreboding and beautiful glint of the sun’s pieces in the glass of the surrounding skyscrapers too busy scraping the sky to look down and see.

But I was seeing. seeing that endless string of little black roads stuck in a Ben Franklin grid, rushing to run toward the Delaware’s lipping waves of barges where they all-at-once pour out their cars to industry junkyards and lift up to the sun-kissed open sky.

I am taking part. taking an inhale and taking in the view. I’m taking in the joy, the hope. the hearts the every hidden light-shining soul that makes this world. And to think––this morning I woke up, brushed my teeth and thought of nothing else. A shame! the mind is funny in its predictions. we know nothing of the future.

To be so alive, so very exhilarated without an inch of fear is truly incredible. Nothing awakens the soul such as this. you are part of this vast world called humanity.

There you are.

You!

You can do anything.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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