Sitting in my second floor apartment on top of the street below, people taking leisurely strolls on the sidewalk, an elderly woman walking a pesky pug dog, an old man hobbling on a cane, and farther than I can see, people being born, people dying, lots of joy, lots of crying.
A ceiling fan spins tirelessly over my head, fish in my aquariums swim about, clouds drift in the blue sky, the earth spins beneath my feet, the planets in the cosmos rotate above my head, the universe expands, the Godhead at the controls, and I’m sitting here, heart beating, lungs breathing, eyes seeing, trying to fathom what this creation is really all about.
Bob Boyd
