Photons of Light

One day I’ll let the tears flow. They’ll flow freely and I won’t stop. I’ll cry from deep within and outside. I’ll sit in the middle of the road on a highway off the desert under the glare of the angry afternoon sun. And I’ll cry. I’ll cry with a deep sorrow as if my lover has died. I’ll cry with ebbing sadness. I’ll let salt water flow down to my clavicle and let the dusty winds circle around me and cry some more. I’ll cry on behalf of every person on this planet. I’ll cry for every mother who lost her son to war. I’ll cry for the baby who’s been abandoned by the road. I’ll cry for every tree that was uprooted, for every tiger that died an unnatural death, for every soldier that lost a limb and more, for the women who succumbed to the pressures of flesh trafficking, for the innocent lives that were washed away in the name of religion. I’ll cry for every failure we as a race are facing and have faced.

I won’t stop and you won’t stop me either. While everyone’s busy pretending that everything is just right, I’ll live the pain that we need to feel. I’ll cry out the tears that were stored in our reservoir of resilience. Every cell of my body will crumble under the pressure of unfeeling emotions and a cold heat will gather at the center of my soul. The tears and a montage of reality will combine and convert me into a statue of light. I’ll stand and the wind will carry me but as soon as a drop of dew rests on this ethereal figure it’ll dissemble and dissipate like a swarm of fireflies dismembered by a quake. These photons of light will scatter and travel around the world with the currents of wind.

An iota of this light will come settle at a window sill. A curious boy will hold out his hand and grab it with pure delight. He’ll hold it close to his nose and see the sparkling Milky Way galaxy. He’ll eat it and it will run straight to the left side of his chest. He’ll run to his grandfather struggling to get up from his wheel chair to help.

An iota of this light will drift away and rest in the pages of a book. A girl will pick it up and wonder. The light will shift the neurons in her cerebellum. A blinding second or two later, she’ll be furiously spinning a world with words, with paper and pen.

An iota of this light will fly into a hospital room and merge in the liquid of a glucose bottle. With every drip, it will get closer to the vein of that sleeping beauty that hasn't opened her eyes in 2 years. She will breathe aloud and tightly grasp the hand of her lover who sits by her side come hail or storm. He’ll wake from his self-imposed exile with screaming delight and the sleeping beauty will brighten the room with her feeble smile.

These photons of light will dance away with the gusty wind and fall into the cracks of a drought ridden farmland. The seeds of wheat will germinate and take root in the now fertile soil. These little specks of green at the surface of Earth will bring joy to the family of farmers that haven’t had a morsel of food in days.

These photons of light will spread throughout the world and rest in places that need it the most.

I will cry one day from the bottom of my heart to dissipate and become one with these moments of magic. I’ll cry one day to burst into these Photons of Light.