I walk with a guide dog for the blind most of the time. Some days I travel without him. I tap the pavement with a long white stick.
Once, in Dublin, Ireland, I worked my way through the long airport and swept my cane before me and a woman grabbed me by the arm without warning.
"Where do you want to go?" she asked. She was wearing serious perfume.
"I want to go to Paris," I said.
"Oh," she said, "that’s where I am going!"
"Ah," I said, "but I don’t want to go to Paris today."
"Why not?" she asked. She was still clutching my arm.
"Because Paris is the city for restlessness," I said, "and I am not restless."
We were standing in a crowded Irish airport and for a moment we were perfectly still.
"Today," I said, "I am headed for the sea where I will become actual, sharing the form of motion."
She let me go and walked away, lost in her own body of thought.
s.K.
Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University
So great.