The young woman lounges in a dreamy state by her window, following the outside scene in resolute relaxation. Beyond the pane, trees tickled by the breeze softly giggle, for the delightful friend of spring has come. The blue sky arches over the earth, and under it lies the land eager to be resurrected. Flowers remain a little stubborn, not quite ready to reveal their bloom to the world. Cars swiftly pass by the street, disturbing nature’s smooth pulse.
The girl is enjoying the view, but inside her heart there sits quiet unrest. Her spirit is tired, her heart worn with frayed edges. Where was the day going to go? The sun reigned with its signal of light. Yet is a day subject to the human law of Time, the darkness of the spinning universe, or the judgment of God? Or was it subject to all? She didn’t know. She was only one soul thinking in one moment in one place. This pondering weighed upon her mind, even though her body and brain remained lazy.
She could, in the next minute, turn on the TV and laugh at Ellen Show, or cry with Oprah. She could yell at the stock market and political journalists, or watch a movies with too many commercials. She could pick up a magazine or book and browse its pages, feeling desire or detachment from their ads, articles, or themes. She could leave and shop, buy the wants and sell the needs of her life. She could meet up with friends and family, to relish in social occupation and love. She could go for a run or jump around at a zumba class. She could text and tweet, saying random jokes and joys.
All these things she could do. But she stayed silent by the window. She did not have the will to move, only the will to pray. And that had more meaning than everything else.