Rooted

The days rolled by as he stared out through the window watching people walk past his street day in and day out. An old lady who used to sit at a near-by park bench had noticed him one day as she looked up to his apartment complex this; strange frail looking man at his window, and decided to great him from time to time, if he caught her eye. Likewise, he would nod gentle in response as a form of greeting.

Today was less busy than the other days, being a public holiday right in the middle of the week it seemed as if most people were in doors. He traced his hand up from his chin to his forehead with a labored sigh. There would be fewer people to see today, he taught as he adjusted his gaze back down to the street below. Just when he was about to tear himself from the window he saw something breath taking.

His pupils enlarged with excitement as he moved closer towards the window and pressed his face against the cold window’s glass.  It pained him deeply as he watched her walking out of the store. He wished he was down there below, near her. He would have bumped against her and introduced himself “Oops! I’m sorry, oh clumsy me”. Was what he would have said, or probably something even wittier to break the ice.

She stopped at a crossing and studied her surrounding as if not yet sure whether to cross the road or walk up the street. The more time she took deciding, the more it pained him. He wished hopelessly that he was down there near her. He had spent his waking life strengthening his mind to the detriment of his  body and soul. His spirit yearned for company, but he was too rooted in his ways to take that needed step.

Here now was someone who not only dredged up old feelings of longing, but questioned his entire philosophy and at the same time enticed him with the prospects for something new. A new perspective, a new hope and possibly the only person he would long to stare at each day!