Folded thought of the day:

Sitting in my neighborhood, I had the following thought.

From a stoop in Brooklyn... 

You can see the day take form, settle in, unfold.. 

You can wash down a sandwich with a cold soda on a hot 
day with the shade of a lonely tree keeping you cool.  

You can hear the joyous screams of children as they 
run home from school, holding hands and plotting 
schemes.. leaving their lessons behind, to be dealt 
with later, with eyes full of the world and ice 
cream and kickball.  Passing you by without a 
thought, no mean intention, just youthful indulgence.  

You can see the skyline of Manhattan.. and the 
sweat of millions.  You can feel the struggle and the 
pride and the suffering and the triumph.. you press 
your feet against the city's floor to know you're 
there, to know you are alive, to know you are part 
of something bigger.. and you feel the humbling and 
understand the promise.  

You can watch a century come to an end.. in any 
direction.  Mingling with the ghosts of Ellis 
Island and the weary souls of the continental 
drift.  Arriving, settling, moving on.  Building.  
You can understand the cost.. the price paid 
for the wealth of a nation.. you can hear the 
distant thunder.. but it's hard to know whether 
it's sounding an echo from yesterday or a 
prophesy for tomorrow. 

You can hear the language of survival and 
smell the tradition of the ages.  You can 
look into the eyes of America.. sense the 
pain in the weary walk and the hope held 
in the baby's cry.

From a stoop in Brooklyn you can see the night 
falling.. and know that you have come far.. 
and that you are home.


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