I thought I knew life, and what it meant to be living. I thought I knew soul. Of course I was wrong.
There were people there. There were so many people there. Some of them homeless, all of them poor. And we were to talk to them; we were to know their pain. I only knew shame. Shame that I had so much. Shame I had not done enough.
Her name was Jamie. She wanted to see the bridge. Bill took her there. She walked the winding cement path past the sunflower representative lights lit in red. The fountain caught her green eyes. Spikes of water enticed her childlike amusement and Bill walked her on arms entwined. They reached the center, but she ran smiling on. On Iowa and Nebraska she tip-toed. "Who rules me now?" she asked with the smile of a thousand lights. You cannot rule her smile. You cannot stop the light from illuminating such a fountain of life.
He talked. Oh, how he talked of mobile Linux and Rocket mail. He talked to his friend, and they both laughed. They had forgotten what it was they talked about. "How can we?" he asked, "I thought we were smart." They laughed again, acknowledging their addle-mindedness. They were a euphony onto themselves, pleasing each other with idle chatter. They were happy to be alive and spirited enough to recognize it.
I didn't know he danced. I walked by the open door of his room as his hips swayed to the three of the tune. His eyes were closed in what could only be personal euphoria. A loss of the self, he was lost to himself. Only the music mattered- soulful music that brought a smirk. The Spanish rhythm of El Amor.
He danced, she ruled, they shared, and I cried. Not tears of sorrow, nor of joy. They were tears of knowing and of hoping. They were tears of living. I am soulfully living.
