Sunshine Sparkle

Sparkle.
Shine.
Refuse to dull.
Refuse to cower in the shade.
Step into,
ride through,
bask in
the sun.

This morning as I biked through Central Park, hitting the bridal path. (Are those two not the two most beautiful words in the English language, say it with me — bridal path — conjuring up images of weddings and horses and journey), I bathed in the quiet. The loud morning sun shone through the quiet trees. Were they the American Elm trees? Ready to tap out, to hunker down for winter, spread their leaves like a blanket across the path. Like a gentleman in an old movie, laying his coat across the puddle.

See, I have to arrive to school by 7:50 in time to thermal scan (those two words — thermal scan — are not my favorites — conjuring up images of technology and disembodied temperatures). Biking is the fastest route. My heart gets pumping. Earlier, about 6:50 today, the cool in the air, I took a walk with Charlie (Charley? Does it even matter how you spell a dog’s name as they can’t read any way?) And the walk turned into a run, he and I along the Riverside Park sidewalk — this middling age woman and her frisky newfound dog.

What was the point I was trying to make?
Oh, I recall, once I heard at a 12 step meeting, “I don’t believe in God, but I believe in the sun’s rays. And every time I see them, I’m reminded of a Higher Power.”
Yes, this.
You may not believe in God,
but you may believe in the sun’s rays
and the way the leaves drift down the bridal path.
Believe in the shine, the luminescence
the ineffableness of the sun’s sparkle through the bowing of the great Central Park trees.

The sunlight, the trees, they ask for nothing,
Not even you for you to notice.
Run. Ride.
Scan. Shine. Sparkle.

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