Heaven

B"H
I looked up and there it was.
My eyes could not contain the vision.
Glory thrilled through my veins.
Joy was on my lips.
My soul was healed.
There, in the glorious space between the majestic, sun tipped clouds, was the sky.
Azure.
Cerulean.
Indigo.
Sapphire.
Blue.
Pure and holy Blue.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, only to open them again and be elated by the sight of it. There had been endless days of gray, days that had passed in a quiet rush, days that had begun with clouds and ended with clouds, days that slipped by me so easily, days where my soul had slept.
Now those days had come to a conclusion. It was time for sun and sky.
My soul slipped up and away, into this pure and perfect blue, this rainwashed, coldcleansed blue that was suspended above me. I felt laughter. I heard song. I knew only this moment, only the wonder that my eyes could not contain, only the beauty that man could not ever hope to create, only this.
This moment was joy.
This moment was peace.
I inhaled this moment and held it within me. In my mind's eye, I still behold the vision of that sky.
Behind those days of gray, those layers of gloom, it had been waiting.
Waiting for me.
Waiting for me to emerge from that small building and be stunned by it. Lifted up into its perfection.

Wind Me Up

B"H
Did you ever have one of those wind-up toys? The ones with little plastic feet and the knob on the side that you wind up and let loose to run across the table and fall over the edge? My family used to buy a silly wind-up toy whenever we were giving gifts. The wind-up teeth, duck, even the wind-up seal that you could put in the bathtub. I think we got that one for my sister's sixteenth birthday.
I feel like one of those wind-up toys. You have to hold them in your hand and wind the tiny knob on the side. They begin to quiver with pent-up energy, the legs clicking, anxious for movement.
So you let them go, and they race across the surface you have placed them on in mad, dashing circles.
Then they slow down. The circles grow smaller, the legs click with a softer rythm. Before you know it, they have toppled over, and lie feebly on their sides, cheap plastic bodies shuddering with an occasional twitch.
And you have to pick them up, and wind the knob, tighten the coils, ready the toy for another run.
It's been about three months or so that I've been living here in Crown Heights. Three months that feel more like five, filled as they've been with so many firsts, so many new things. And with so many old ones, old emotions that I'd forgotten. New situations, same logic. Same patterns. Sometimes, I know myself better than I think. Sometimes, I surprise myself. But right now, this week, I am sure of one thing.
I'm ready to be wound up again. To reel in the coils of energy, the resolutions and decisions and visions that propelled me when I arrived in September. I'm ready to suck in that deep, calming breath and take a look at my list. That list of wishes and hopes, and all those things that I really should do.
My knob's been turned and twisted tight. I'm quivering with pent up energy, aching to be moving.
What's frustrating is that two weeks from now, I'll be back, ready to be wound up again.
Those toys didn't really have a lot of staying power.