Puppies, Babies, and Bubbles
We slide past each other with nary a glance–
okay, maybe an obligatory smile,
artificial, fixed,
pleasant, but not too pleasant.
We, the lonely, dare not touch those others–those unknowns–
because what if they were axe murderers, terrorists, or Amway salespeople.
But on a beach, on a sunny day,
walking along in our unsuspecting cosmic aloneness,
a man with 2 sticks, a string, and a bucket of suds
sends rainbow bubbles cascading in and around and over and yon;
and in a magical moment, strangers are united in their bubbling joy.
This moment is a miracle of sorts–the same miracle that unites strangers over cooing babies and cuddly puppies.
Maybe we should send bubble men to the Middle East.
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