Volume 27
July 27th, 2005 by Jarodyit seems that all throughout the day my heart is at my feet
the sun rises bringing with it a new dawn full of discovery…
for most a bright new day would lighten the load and lift the burden of a heavy heart, but not me,
my heart sinks with the rising of the sun.
only when the sun has almost set
day after day
and the sky is ablaze in a beauiful ice cream colored fantasy (big sticks as they were)
does an asian man come peddling bye and my spirits rise…
his age is unknown, though he looks ancient, as does the bike he sits upon, tredding so heavily.
his path has worn deep in the street. a smoke hangs on his bottom lip and his eyes look to the past.
so hypnotic and melodious are his gears turning with the rythmic squeek of some unknown piece of his steed of ancient steel… this scene and these sounds put my soul at rest.
he peddles as a conductor to his own beat. i can hear it for the entire block. everything stands still and no sound penetrates my ears more than his peddling symphany.
my heart sinks again at his passing. i know why he rides on his path so worn. he is a slave to the melody