As I sit here clenching my over-sized bag to my chest in what seems to be the midst of 1,000s of people...I find myself lost in the dreams of the factory worker who just completed a 12 hour shift this morning, who bows his head in hopes that one day he will come home early enough to tuck his daughter to sleep or leave home late enough to share a warm breakfast with his beautiful family.
I get lured in by the sweet melodies of the penniless lady who sings with her heart in hopes that one day her lingering odor won't tell her story, nor the spare change she receives from her sympathetic audience, but that one day her aspirations to tell her story to the world, to move nations with her God-given gift will come to fruition.
The aromatic perfume of freshly brewed fair trade coffee awakens my senses... as I gander upon the oh-to familiar "wall street junkies" dressed in their rent priced suits as they juggle the morning paper in one hand , blackberries in an another, intense cravings of handling vast amounts of money and determined to risk a mouthful of the national economy.
Then of-course, my commute to central Manhattan wouldn't be complete with out the wide-eyed tourists equipped with their fanny packs,who travel like schools of fish; and who's excitement is contagious to all whom bear eyes upon this color-coordinated bunch. They remind us, that we are in what most believe to be: the greatest city in the world but assuredly the most populated. Their awe-stricken anxiety honors this city's influence over global commerce,media, art, fashion, research, education ,entertainment and more. They are ready to devour as much they can...
And yes at times I pinch myself because I wonder if this is reality. Millions of people living their lives in hopes of the realization of something greater, thousands of people wandering from one location to another , hundreds going through the motions...
And as I sit here I can't help but pray, pray for each and every one of them because their stories are imprinted and my hopes that their hopes (whatever they may be) are realized
can also be read here: Through their eyes