the birdman cometh

Banter? I just met her...




Had I been mature enough, more grateful, less bratty that day. All that remains is the memory of the moment. It fleeted forgotten from me years before I uncovered the mystery that was, that moment. That moment. Those few minutes. A distant memory of an indelible, magical, finite instant that I oppressed into a cowering glob of untruth. I stood atop of Mt Kilimanjaro at almost 19,000 feet as a 13 year old boy, wishing I was at JV basketball practice with the rest of my team. Looking down on the African continent, looking down on commercial jets as they descend beneath the clouds we ascended two days earlier. A summit at sunrise overlooking the world, seeing all that. All that space. All that land. I imagine Alexander the Great must have had a similar moment. A life changing instant, where he rationally concluded he will indeed conquer the world. I chose as well. I chose to acknowledge that instant as merely a vehicle to get me to the next moment; filler. That morning, the place where only I can go, vanished into the wind 21 years ago. Sometimes though, that imaginary image does hit me. I see that day so clearly, so vivid, so fresh in my mind. It calms. It quiets. I see that frozen moment years ago I forgot to live through as a child. I squeeze it close to my soul, always to remember that which I had forgotten.

sez jefe on 12:44 PM link me

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