The City Sleeps

It's almost 2am. The city has turned it's lights out but I can't seem to fall asleep. As I lay in bed I begin to think. Thinking is such an awakening activity. I think of so many things. I think of what would happen if I, by some chance, should not wake come morning. Would anything at all change? Would the businessmen still stroll meaningfully down Broadway? Would Rae make her famous biscuits and gravy at the market? Would the young enamored couple still stop for lunch at the corner cafe on 4th? Sure, the news would come as a shock to some. Family and close friends would shed some tears, share some memories, and maybe the men would carry the casket. Ultimately, however, the everyday comings and goings would continue to clamor, almost without hesitation. I am small, almost nothing. Although this seems so grim a realization, it is merely a fact.

It seems that night is when i think the most. I take my bike out for a stroll in quiet downtown. Up University, down stone, up congress and down church--thinking, just thinking. There almost all is quiet, asleep. A car here, a cop there. I see a man curled up on a bus bench. I think of what path led him out of house and home. What loved ones were left behind. I continue down the street, stop for the train, count the constant cars...ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine.

As I arrive back home from this simple half hour stroll, I begin to think of what I care most about. I think of what I would really be upset to lose. What comes to mind is simple and constant. Ask yourself, what do you have? What do you have that keeps you alive? What gives your life the purpose you profess to have? You may be surprised if you sit back and think...just think.