You are here.

Try to find me in this picture.
I was there.
And now, I am here.
There are times when nothing is due and the next few hours could take you anywhere.
There are moments when life just makes a lot of sense.
There are instances when I am at peace as the city sits, quietly anticipating the holidays.
And at last, in a moment of weakness, the buildings shine the colors from their rooftops.
The trees in the Plaza are quietly breaking.
The sidewalk is sprinkled with water stains.
The light posts are wrapped in red and light, welcoming in the season of our savior.
We are wrapped in scarves and the scents of cookies for Hanukkah.
The cold is a constant presence, but I'm determined not to let it bother me.
For Jesus didn't come to hear us complain.
What a terrible Birthday we often make it.
Have we forgotten what any of this means?
Apparently so.
I wonder to myself if the Monday club will meet today.
I need to buy a black long sleeved shirt, and I kind of just want to see Chirstmas.
For a season, the world comes together and tries to pretend it is okay.
We try and smile.
Of course, I know the Birthday Boy.
And so I have something to celebrate.
I pity those who simply do not.
In the mean time, I wear an extra layer.
I take the El downtown, admiring Chicago through the dim windows.
I find myself on State Street--that great street
Compliments of Mr. Sinatra.
And the season will be upon me until I contain it not longer.
And at last, in a Moment of weakness, I shine colors from my smile.
Sweet.
Jesus.