today i awoke to a miracle.
the city was a revelation.
bathed in green. swathed in new light.
i stood on the corner of 77th and columbus and was lost. i'd gone too far. not far enough. where was i?
i looked up. 77th. columbus. no, this is right. and then i realized:
green. a canopy of green above. and with that, everything looked different. altered. the usual no more.
the city is a brand new playground. these corners and pockets that i know so well have changed and are beckoning me forth to explore. mapped and charted territory in need of new delineations.
suddenly, the usually banal cross town bus trip is like burrowing through the center of the rain forest. it doesn't last too long. but it's a glorious explosion of lushness in the gathered bouquet of skyscrapers and tenements that is new york.
new york is new again. new to me. and i could fall in love once more.
we forget, you know. there are times that our memories trail so close behind--clicking at our heels. and so we forget. trees lose their leaves. and then they find them again. of course. how could i forget this?
barren arms reaching to the sky. and then an answered prayer. blooms and buds. and flowers and leaves. cyclical. life is cyclical. and so the word barren is not right. trees are not barren. they are never without. they are in transition. life takes on new form.
i am not without. i am in transition. and soon a prayer will be answered and i will bloom and open. and i will be the same but altered. and i will get to explore this new me who was here all along. and the cycle will repeat.
the trees sang me a song this morning and my ears are alight with their hum.