And Me...

Seeing the movie.

I want to hear the voiceover-

The thoughtful progression of speech,

the sure as day discovery.

Can't you hear it?

They're speaking.

To who? Why? Where are they?

My thoughts exactly-

But--don't you hear it?

Is it me or is that voiceover the sound of philosophical genius?

"Oh. It's just me then."

I want to see the close-up-

That flower bending in the sun under a cool breeze surrounded by lazy bees,

The cheap, rattling subway with graffiti on its walls with the lone passenger that's a blond haired boy,

The sleek piano being played by the smooth, slender fingers of a crazed thirty year old man.

Can't you see it?

The essence of life in that solitary moment,

The significance in earthly things.

Is it a beautiful sight??

Of course it is, this is where we whisper the thankful 'Amen.'

Don't you think so?

"Oh. It's just me then."

I want to immerse myself in the dialogue-

The 'hems' and 'ha's' of a disapproving mother towards her son's unworthy and accident prone girlfriend,

The snorts of disgust and chuckles of rueful mirth,

The escalation for normal conversation to lifechanging event.

Can't you hear it?

The everlasting speech.

Amused? Saddened? Angered? Thrilled? Chilled?

I get those feelings too..

But- don't you love hearing it?

Don't you want to hear it every hour of everyday of every month?

"Oh. It's just me then."

The action, I want to see the action-

The kiss on the cheek to the baby orphan before he's taken from the mother,

The gun held to a manacled man who's known to owe some money that's not his to owe,

The bombs, the wars, the befriended soldiers, the blood.

Can't you see it?

Doesn't it unravel before your mind's eye, smooth like worn silk?

The moving picture, the static film, the rolling frame.

Doesn't it call to you? Make your heart melt with the image of a burning fire?

"No? It's just me then."