Night Stroll

The dusk had came and went, and night was in full swing. The air swelled with the freah aroma of cherry blossoms. The pavement was cool, even through the soles of ones shoe. Peace and folly danced in the blowing breeze. Humming bike spokes, the soft gurgle of the canal, and intermittent lights along the walk, an evening both strange and luminous.

Why do we guard our hearts? So that the small sweet things are so often blurred over. Why do we protect our past with such a closeness? Perhaps this place has ceased to recognize beauty in the mundane, and passes on opportunities to open. Again, the strong scent of cherry blossom infuses within ones nostrils.

Are we not but visitors? Grounded for some days, weeks, years or decades.. and the importance of time. Do we realize its precious opportunities? or perhaps take them for granted. Maybe we feel they allude us altogether.

The surroundings open to a dim lit street, where tall pines cast thier shadows across the cement. In the shadows cast, one cannot make out their individual branches. The night is still, calm, and peaceful.

  Knowing no riddle cracked or question answered, a smugness spreads across the wanderers face. Porch lights come into view and an urge kicks him into high gear, the same that sent him into the night, it is the urge to return home.