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Southern California, California, United States
Creative Director of ‘The Pebbling Process’, Poet, Writer, Speaker & Consultant So many wonderful stories lay undisturbed, waiting, in the pebbles along the paths our lives have taken ...

come sit a bit

come sit a bit and read this ink
and in this cloud please write
from your living eyes and pen
what you find here ignites

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

10.31.2012 7:27PM

Be still, close your eyes, and it will come to you …

the hum – the steady hum of the escalators, that echoing whistle that is a part of large open public places, the whistling creatures that live in these places – all who pass by pass mumbling silently, laughing in low tones or saying, in not so low tones, that “great-to-see-you” chatter – real or manufactured. it is the hum of the escalators that is constant – insistent – sort of like a rushing stream but it goes no where – trapped - simply recycling it’s self over and over till there is no discernable message – no clear tale to tell. it has continued so long that the marble floor and steps together with the stainless steel rails vibrate in unison – they too have heard this tale and echo it – maybe tales – the weight of bodies, of thoughts, of hearts carried up and down – so many tales run together now there is one tale. the shrill whistle, squealing /hissing brakes puncture the drone noise like a needle through the membrane of a vial of medicine once withdrawn the membrane closes up. what is it (hear) here that pulses – what messages are in this place, in the rhythm? i close my eyes and listen but cannot discern it’s coming – ah but she is coming – and soon – the roar of the jet engine will thrust backwards, the wheels will thud and the brakes will squeal as they are pressed bringing the mighty bird, the miracle that carries her, carries many, here – the escalator’s hiss, the stone’s vibration, the metal’s whistling, the brake’s squealing – all echoes of the miracle of seeing where our hearts have never been apart, many hearts, many loves – there are no words – just the constant motion – constant – that is the message in the hum, i hear (here) it now - the constant drone of the escalators, the vibration of the marble floor and steps and stainless rails – love abiding – be still, feel your open heart and it will come to you – on the hum of the escalator this time she has arrived …

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Pebbling by Jane Jones is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.