some limelight way

these are the days away: small aching arms and words that fit together only slightly (what we want we can never want what we are we can never be)
so certainly the worst of days came into play when the music coming over the roofs of the city slowed down and i remembered that i was sitting on the ground in the parking lot of my office, waiting for the sun to catch up to the music and sink slowly into rest.
the music is too fast for the sky.
and there, being hit sideways by dried leaves still unswept away by the wind, unloaded from the caretaker's bags: these leaves are the story of the world.
i remember when i hadn't forgotten how clever photosynthesis was, how i didn't pass it by without thinking. i remember dynamic conversion meaning something. today, i am tired. tired but alive and waiting out the day, hoping to catch one small glimse of that tired angel of triangles to come forth dragging the sunset behind it, as it does at the end of every day and i could sit there, with the starched-coat security lady from the office building telling me about some miracle juice that cures blindness or somesuch and just watch the world move, knowing it doesn't need me wouldn't notice if i was gone and how fine it is for independence to be so natural.
the maintenance men are pruning the hedges of the entire complex at a rate that chases the length of a single cigarette and i am sitting here, watching the mastery of their craft unfold before me, watching the transformation of a landscape from dreary growth into something clean with simple lines and ambience. is it odd to think that i was almost moved to tears?
the greatest joys of my life have always been the admiration of skill and character in others, to watch the rising of a spirit from the gray-dust slagheap and then to watch it sunburn the earth as every great spirit before it has, as every great thing changes the world around it. i keep thinking about george bernard shaw and how "the reasonable man adjusts himself to the world while the unreasonable man attempts to adjust the world to himself, therefor all progress depends on the unreasonable man".
this world with it's high ceiling atmosphere and it's swaying tides and how every great bend we can count (or choose to) so far has been the work of men and women of skill and luxury, talent and artistry, magic and mystery. men driven by a secret power that is nestled quietly within them for years and then, in one moment, it spreads out across the earth and changes the way we breathe, move, feel, and behave.
the behavior of man is always deplorable and sanctified at once. today, i am looking at the sacred side. today i am thinking about man's fingers touching every part of the world like rain and always changing always changing always changing (we are, by nature, growth) and that this: the great becoming is what we are all heading towards. the silent quest for progress.
we are more than faith.
and now, typing this in the center of my office, facing the desk and using text as my own private radio station, i can communicate my feeling of the greatness of mankind by virtue of my use of man's achievement. had man not built computers, these secrets would stay mine. they would belong only to me and a few key people i could share it with. but now, i can hyper-modulate them and bring them, (these thoughts that drifted like snow flurries into my head and into yours because i bothered to make note of it).
making mental notes is invaluable.
more and more, with the passing of each wind-gust on planet earth, the roving past of each storm, i can articulate the importance of noticing, without which the rest would have no value. at least, not to me.
i am moving in a world of ideas and plaster. i am the product of a world of steel girders and railroad tracks. i am product of the internet age, the industrial age, the communications age, the iron age and every other age of man.
so this that began with the watching of leaves ends as a tribute to anyone anywhere who took one idea from their heads and with their hands made it so.

2005-03-01 | 12:11 p.m.
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