I Am Here

Life passes by on one side and the other
I pause
sit
think
For a moment I am still
For a second life flows around me, not through me
A leaf falls slowly
drifting to the ground
Chatter around me becomes a hum
No one sees me, and I see everything
I could jump up and down screaming and no one would notice
or would they?
Would that break the surface tension of the time stream
bursting my observation bubble?
As I bob along, a millimeter (not even that) removed.
Would I then be pummeled
assaulted
surrounded by the sounds, smells, sights
instead of just observing?
“Would you like to buy that?”
“No, I'm just looking.”
I'm not part of the world, for an instant.
I am separate.
And then a phone rings
someone pushes back a chair noisily.
And the spell is broken.
I Am Here.
I look away.
Everywhere I look there is someone else to look away from.
It's not nice to stare.
I join the crowd, wandering purposefully
I wave to someone I know
who apparently doesn't know me.
I see a tree with rusty red leaves
that fall more normally now.
Glancing back I can still see my bubble
not popped, just abandoned.
“Would you like to buy that?”
“Yes, I'll take two.”
“Here's your change.”
I flow with the herd
and the pop out of the tidal wave
disgorged from the masses
and enter my secret space.
my home.
my solitude.
But I'm not in a bubble now,
secluded and observing,
I'm more like a statue
commented on
ever present, ever still
part of, but not included in, the crowd.
I no longer feel invisible,
nor even unimportant.
I am a resting tornado
and when I step forward
I meld with the crowd.
Standing out in an unusually stereotypical way.
And for once I am not moving
I'm simply present
I Am Here.