swing

The other day I walked through the park. Coffee in one hand and the other safely in my pocket. This was the same park I played soccer at when i was little, the same park I met my friends before middle school started each day. Now I was walking alone through the canyon where fascination of the nature around me lasts only until a fly hits me in the face and brings me back to reality. I realized I dont even notice my surroundings much anymore. When was the last time I stopped to feel the wind brush against my face? I've been too absorbed in my daily routine lately to stop and appreciate life. I kinda miss the tire swing. I miss the simple happiness in falling down a slide. When did we all stop spinning around in circles, laughing at the dizzyness that takes hold? Now all thats spinning is my mind. Kids are happy running in sand or swinging. Why cant we do that anymore? Its the difference between the man sitting on the park bench reading a book and the man on his cell phone smoking a cigarette. That evening I really looked at the setting sun- the intoxicating beauty of colors as if the sky was a blank canvas and the sun was its artist. Sometimes I want to be that kid on the tire swing again. I want to be that man reading a book on a park bench. I want to be in a moment of simplicity. Maybe theres a balance in life where simplicity can meet harsh reality. We can discuss important issues on the sea saw. Maybe there we can find happiness until realily hits us in the face with a fly.