That's Me

There is sun shining through your window illuminating bits of cosmic dust as they float aimlessly through the air. There I am, that’s me; a tiny piece of stardust floating through your window, only visible if the sun is shining at just the right angle but always there. And I am that hard soggy clay you’ve been walking on all spring, full of nutrients but kind of clumpy and uneven. 

Waves come splashing at your feet and if you get close enough, they nearly knock you down with their enthusiasm and rhythm. That’s me again. Sometimes I just get so excited, my presence is a bit overwhelming. Or like that puppy dog jumping up to kiss you, I might be a little too zealous in showing my affection for meeting people or going on adventures. 

And then too, there is that dark corner of your basement where the cobwebs build up and the junk stays piled for months and years. I’m there too; just stuck in the dark wondering if any of these old memories mean anything to anyone but me or even me.  I don’t mind if you come to visit me there but I understand it is hard to breathe in the dark corners.  And I’m that song that keeps humming in the background while you go through your day.  It’s a delightful and also annoying tune. 

I’m no more than a pebble on the beach. How is it possible to be so lonely when there are so many of us? And oops! I’m sorry you stubbed your toe on my rough edges. I didn’t mean to. Then suddenly you have a brilliant thought, the perfect solution to the problem, the best idea you’ve ever had. Yup that’s me again. I’m full of great ideas but it’s up to you to carry them out. Production is not really my thing.  There’s a beautiful maple in your back yard, the roots spread deep and wide, the branches too.  It’s a quiet place to sit and rest in the shade on a hot day or ponder the color of nature on a cool fall day. That’s me too. I’m open for business all year round. And then a dragonfly flits by, creating a little breeze on your cheek as it passes. That’s me too. I’m off to check out the garden down the street. I’ll see you later or I’ll see you there. You’re one of the flowers aren’t you?

~jules, 4/26/12