Some things exist only to be seen by
those that need them most. As a
child, I watched a young theologian
reduce the divine to a chalkboard
sketch. Time is a circle that we live
inside, he explained, and that the Almighty
exists outside of. How simple
the universe is, sometimes. I’ve driven
down enough country roads to know
what loneliness is, walked down enough
city streets to know the isolation of
crowds. Wherever you are, you are
small amidst the vastness of the unknown.
I am standing atop a bridge, surrounded
by strangers, watching an eclipse
overhead. One whispers to another,
“We are witnessing history.” It’s true.
In eighteen years there will be
another, and by then none of us will
remember each other’s names.