No More to Roam

I'm only going home.

How much the mind can wander, when it is given free range. How easy the City makes it, to be reigned in again.

I stood on the corner of 77th and Broadway, slowly rocking a sleeping stroller and watching the city play out its theater in front of me. A homeless man searched through the garbage can, and it was obvious he had a method to it. A couple with suitcases and bags trying to get a cab got nixed three times by surly taxi drivers until they finally gave up, and I never heard where they were trying to go. People walked by all shapes and sizes: New Yorkers. And I thought to myself, this is what you are doing; this is why you are here.

When all is said and done, this is the place where my soul is happy. There are dreams and hopes and passions within me, decades in the making, that make sense here, that actually have a chance of making it if they are allowed to stay. I have gotten sidetracked, and I may get swayed yet, but in the end, there's a reason I worked so hard to get here. And perhaps it's reason enough to work so hard to stay.

I walked home down the daylight savings dark streets, and I breathed in the cool, clean air of Promise. The roller coaster life continues. Tickled pink, I hold on for the ride.