This morning there was a young man sitting across the aisle from me on the train and he kept repeating to himself” Under the blue sky. ”
He repeated that line over and over and when it felt like he was going to add something to that thought, he backed up against his seat and shook his head. He did this a few times and it was obvious he was becoming frustrated.
I looked over at him and he looked at me and when he turned his head I could see that his face was scarred and I know those scars were scars from burns.
He looked straight ahead and started to have a conversation with someone that only he could see, and in the tradition of these types of conversations they are disjointed and peppered with random images and phrases.
But as I listened I heard a story- just a small one hidden in all of those sounds and pictures that he was expressing to his invisible companion and that story inspired what I wrote today:
Under the blue slue we lived the life we were promised
me and my dog Skylar
and my Sister.
I love my family, I love my dog, I love the sky
I loved being under the blue sky
where everything promised was where it belonged.
Do you know what happened?
Under the blue sky was unlimited Death.
Death, Death, Death.
It rained on us all, under the blue sky.
It rained fire on me and Skylar and my family and my sister too.
Death. Death. Death.
I still love the blue sky even when the Sun
isn’t there and my family isn’t here and my dog isn’t there
together under the blue sky we were promised.
RDP Thursday: SCINTILLA