POSTCARD MOMENT

I’VE BECOME A CAPTIVE GHOST ON THE DECK OF A MEDITERRANEAN METAL CORK SPLASHING THROUGH AN OPEN SEA OF SERENITY. I POSITION MY FEET INTO THE SAIL OF GOD’S GOOD HUMOUR AS I PONDER THE MEANING OF LIFE. A  SEDUCTIVE TRANSCENDENTALISM GRASPS MY EVERY EMOTION WITH AN OVERWHELMING DESIRE TO BE A BETTER ME.

I’VE WRITTEN NUMEROUS POSTCARDS ON MY JOURNEY BUT NONE COMPARE TO THE CALMING CAPTIVITY BEFORE ME. A CHILD PLAYS ON THE SAME DECK AS I WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD.  DANCING, LAUGHING, JUMPING, AND FALLING, THIS CRAYON CONVERSATIONALIST WAS CREATED TO ENJOY LIFE’S SIMPLE PLEASURES.

I WATCH AS MY HEART DROPS INTO MY STOMACH FIZZING LIKE A CARBONATED BEVERAGE. THE POSTCARD I SEE I CAN NEITHER SEND NOR BEND NOR STAMP WITH A PRICE NOR TAINT WITH AN UNGODLY VICE.  THIS POSTCARD MOMENT REFRESHES THE WORDS ON MY LIPS.

TO A CHILD SOUND IS MERELY A GAME INVENTED TO HEAR HIMSELF PLAY AS MINUTES MELT AWAY LIKE ICE CREAM ON A HOT SUMMER DAY.  DAY BY DAY, HE SEES EVERYTHING ANEW. WITH RANDOM MOMENTS OF CLOSURE, HE BLINKS PREPARING HIS VOYAGER LENSES FOR A BAPTISM OF MEANINGFUL MEMORIES.

A CHILD’S VOICE IS WORTH THE ARDUOUS CLIMB UP THE STEEPEST MOUNTAIN FOR WHICH THERE ARE NO TRAILS. AND HIS SMILE IMPARTS AN AROMATIC INNOCENCE THAT ONLY DOLPHINS CAN SMELL. LIFE IS SO PLEASING THROUGH ANGEL EYES.

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Chester Delagneau


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