off balance in equilibrium

I did a somersault today for the first time in entirely too long. When’s the last time you tried to do a handstand and lost all control, falling over onto your back just to lie still peering at the great blue firmament that lights your every day, with a smile that hints a deeper knowledge and full of the moment that you realize you’ve taken It all for granted, living as a plant does??? Ask yourself...then, enter the grassy bit, your hands swing up then, in a movement, take your whole body upside down; hands pressing the green blades that creep between your fingers, feet twirl to the sky…over you go…and now you know…again.
Do you recall when safety meant that the lid on the pickle jar didn’t pop up? Do you remember how fantastic and entertaining it was when it did, and how incredibly simple the plan was? No colors to symbolize your emotions, no scale to play you, just a touch of the tips and you knew they were crisp.
I often look at a child in their innocence and gape at the familiar freedom I once lived by; when food was just a nuisance that broke the bonding time with friends, when the crepuscular street could only be felt beneath your feet, yet you played on in hopes that your parents had forgot about you and the darkness that was; a darkness that killed the day, but bore the anecdote of your youth. In that era, questions were welcomed and lack of knowledge was cute; PBn’J with a cold mountain dew, to see that girl and how butterflies flew, to kick the ball over all their heads and win the game…life lived in you.
Remember slip-n-slide, seek and hide, the bike you felt so proud to ride? Was it comic books and baseball cards, Boy Scout cooks and racing cars? Did you ride the bus or walk to school? Did you eat your lunch, hot or cooled? Save a place for a friend in line, hear the bell, clutch the time, “come on, come on…the turn is mine!”
“Don’t take candy from a stranger” was the only imminent danger. Life was blessed when Skeletor was the evil-doer, and their always rested prudence with Papa Smurf and students. Weekend camping trip on the lake, a pile of leaves a playground when raked, the cookies that your mama baked and eating pancakes in your favorite pjs.
Make a batter and eat ‘em up, make it on a Wednesday morn, share it with those in your home. Read a book to your child, watch the look, embrace the smile. Sit yourself down on the porch or the backyard, listen to an album and feel the story’s charm. Do nothing else nor call it lazy, it’s the most efficient thing you can do…for your spirit…or had you forgot the matterless (sic) that matters. Let your child play with his friends, if you’ve none, take marking pens and color a sheet, scribble something neat…shit, walk in the street with your bare feet.