walking home

he sits alone in the park, watching the trees and the breeze at play. how happy the leaves looked, to be in such a beautiful community: where all fall together, but are reborn together as well. how very happy they looked to him, worsening his aching.
getting up, he breathes in the evening air. chilled. cold. brisk. the sun is setting, like all the other nights. slowly. gently. inevitably. stretching his chest, he clasps his hands behind himself and flexed, tensing then relaxing. how odd, that his own were the only hands he had ever embraced. he shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. picking up his pullover, he turns, making for the sidewalk in the distance.
his strides are calculated, meticulously methodical; he could slip and fall with just one wrong step. night is coming on quickly now. this boy -- this man -- walks with deliberation, he has a goal, a distant destination. the hard soles collide with the concrete, causing a deafening racket in the otherwise still evening. startled by the realization, he glaces around, fearing that someone might have been disturbed by him. of course there is no one about. he lets out a sigh - whether of relief or of sadness is unknown, even to himself.
the concrete. that was always there, ever since he was small. checking again for others, he eases himself onto his knees, feeling the grainy texture of the cold, cold slab. there he was, kneeling like a fool, kneeling to feel the cool, calm concrete with his fingertips. a strong gust of wind knocks him from his perch, sending him reeling to the ground. he reaches out for something to grab onto to no avail. crack. seeing stars now, he lies disoriented and nauseated on the hard stone.
the stars in his head and those in His sky mingled and danced. even they could dance together, paying no heed to the years between them.
shaken, he gets up slowly, steadying himself with one hand to keep from toppling. but this time something felt different. standing now, he feels another wave of dizziness. he shakes his head to clear it again. he continues on his way thinking he's alone, all the while oblivious to the many who watch from the branches of the trees, to She who watches while matching his stride, and to He who watches from the perches of the stars.