Wind In The Leaves

Most times I would rather be doing. On the way somewhere. Watching a show, performing, at the movie theater. Traveling. Going out to eat. Running errands. Rehearsing, planning, writing. Moving in some way. Accomplishing things however small, or at least feeling a sense of accomplishment however slight. There is an engine in me that runs and does not like to be stilled.

But there are those times when I sit quietly at home. Far off I can hear the voices of the evenings' revelers and I have no wish to join them or participate in any way. When a chill wind blows boldly through the trees and there is no place I would rather be. Alone and silent and whole. When I feel as if I am the only one in this crowded city and the thought brings a deep and resonate comfort.