Posted By Horizon Staff November 29th, 2012 in Blogs : 0 COMMENTS

H is for Hallowed

I ate popcorn with a fork today. I watched a reenactment of trench warfare. I tried to catch a lizard. I missed you.

In chapel I took the ring off my finger and placed it on my leg, thinking about the man who sold it to me for forty-five Turkish lira and a blush. It’s a beautiful ring. Once upon a time it was a glob of silver deep down in the earth. Before that it was atoms floating in the universe. Before that it was the confrontation of force fields, and before that it was nothing.

So was the popcorn–part of the formless void. Skip a few eras and it became a seed-pebble buried in the earth. Then it ruptured into a tiny green shoot, ruptured like anger that turns into music or art in a desperate attempt to break out of the world’s dirt. After that it was a green stalk, growing up to the blue sky, tanned by the sun until a yellow cob formed. And then it was desiccated and divided into kernels whose molecules were heated until they exploded into white fluff.

Blogs are full of fluff. But then again, so is the sky and a box of ducklings and a field of autumn dandelions and the couch we where we sat and talked for so many hours that Sunday afternoon.

There was no conscious reason that I ate the white fluff with a fork. Eating it with a fork is slow business. Lizards, on the other hand are fast. I tried to catch the lizard because I like power.

It was in my chemistry class freshman year that I learned the best way to catch a lizard: douse it in ice water so that its internal temperature slows so much it becomes sluggish. That’s power, power to make a glob of molecules shift from scampering to waddling. A glob of molecules, that’s all the lizard is, atoms collaborating until they lose momentum to be together. A bunch of atoms glued together until they lose their stickiness, like the enemy in a war across the world, who shoots bullets at a stranger from a hole in the ground. Or like anyone you walk next to every single day and ignore.

Everybody should miss someone, at least from time to time. When I I miss you it’s because you never took anything or anyone for granted. I miss the way you wanted to know where things came from and where they were going and what power made them do or be or rest. I miss the way you perceived holiness in every single person you encountered.

Even people who eat popcorn with forks.

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