When you look up through your helmet visor at the traffic signal, you see kites floating peacefully against the blue blue evening sky. And amidst the new green leaves on the rain tree, the babiest of baby squirrels scampering around from branch to branch.
Is it even legal to be this happy?
Will they lock you up for this? Didn’t they do that to the ecstatics?
* * * * * * *
Young girl, meeting you after years. After you say goodbye, she comes back to where you are getting ready to put on your helmet, and says, “Hey, I don’t remember, but did I hug you?” She did. But you laugh and open your arms again, and say, there is no such thing as too many hugs, is there?
You who had built a wall around you that nothing, no one, could scale.
A time to contract. To close. And a time to expand. To open.
* * * * * * *
But always, always, a time to watch squirrel-babies and fill up with joy.
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