Ahhhh, it is Sunday morning, its a cloudy tropical morning, gray skies mingle with the blue, a light wind sweeps through the valley, that smell, the one that permeates the air right before a tropical downpour. That peacefulness of an empty village. Yes, I do believe it is the perfect time to walk through the flower garden and smell the bloom.
This marning, I will walk to a far away place, where the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle is not heard, and mother nature is enjoying the peace that comes to the earth when there are no human beings around. I will find a path, where the leaves rain down on the inviting trail, so I can take a walk on a rainbow created by the season.
Monday is still beach day. Don’t you want to feel the cool, tropical ocean hug you this marning. Ohhh yes, don’t deny. You want to feel your feel sink into that white sand. Fell the sun one your skin, taste that early morning mango juice. Hear someone playing a steel drum across the bay. Hear the chatter and laughter of school children walking to school. Oh yes, you can tell me you don’t, I just will not believe you. Now go on, wake up and live.
“Hey babe waz up?”
“Nothing, just taking a walk.”
‘And a nice walk it is, he he he he.”
“You can’t afford it.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot foxy mama.”
“Why do humans call each other bitch, I mean bitch this, bitch that. They even call their men bitches. As if its an insult to be a bitch. I a bitch and proud of it and am a bad bitch too.”
“You know thats right bitch!”
“Damn humans, they think they superior because they have arms, I am more classy than any damn human. I mean sometime, they put dresses on me, boots, I mean for Christ sake give a bitch a break here. Why they trying to make me human?
“Who is Christ?”
“I don’t know, they don’t let me in churches, no bitches allowed they say. Well they better be careful, cause one of these day, BAM, a bitch revolution, then we will see who lives in the dog house.”
Thats what am talking bout.”
“Well damn, she pulling me again, I guess I better hurry up and use that patch of grass. I sometimes hold it so we walk longer, I think she wising up to that,”
“Well see you later girl. Hey, POWER TO THE BITCHES!!!!!
So I was walking down the street when a group of kids, looks like they were from a day care, were walking past me. Of course me being seven feet tall, the kids were amazed, they stooped, eyes wide open, bumping into each other. I passed several of them and when I got to the middle of the group this little blond blue eyed girl, no more then four years old, looks up at me and said “What it do bigman.” Then strutted away, smiling.
This morning I had a dream
In which I walking on bare foot on the sun
Where the whole world is sherbet orange
And in my dream I dozed off
With my back against a tree
With brilliant green vines plated around its trunk
Smile and be tomorrows sunshine. Laugh and be yesterdays rainbow. But today, today, walk like you are walking in a tropical flower garden.
Ahhh haaaa, What yuh doing boi, why you don have on yuh diaper. Yuh know yuh doing sumting wrong, look at yuh face. Running round here wid yuh nakid bamsi, boi yuh got give me high blood pressure you know. I better not see any wet stains on me good carpet you hear, or crapo go smoke yuh pipe. Andy, Andy, come get yuh child before he mess on me good carpet nah. Ah sit dung here reading nex ting ah know child butt naked, wid diaper in he hand, walking round like big man. Yuh din tell me he was mobile. Bunjay, all yuh go give me heart attack you know.
It is getting dark, mother nature is stuck between blue skies and a twinkling abyss. Its a good night to go take a walk on a bed of thorns. Leave foot prints of blood so love can find its way to you. And when love finds you, hate gushes out of its mouth like a cluster of butterflies.
Rainy days are made for walking on water
For listening to the rain hitting the galvanized roof
For day dreaming to the rhythm on your umbrella
For splashing in puddles as you walk
Oh yes that fun is not reserved for kids only
For watching the remnants of a rainbow float in a pothole
Smiling at the heavens when lightening cracks the sky
Creating a lyric to the blast of thunder
Sleeping but being aware of the wind howling through the house
The scent of smoke as Mommy Charles lit the coals in the coal pot
Sitting under a tree watching the raindrops darken the red mud
Falling asleep to the sound of rain on banana tree leaves