Incredible, hay-phabets found in field after mowing. Aliens? Charlotte? Serendipity? Inquiring minds want to know.
I Sing the Lurker Electric.
I follow the lurker electric. The one who lives unknown to us, imagined and unimaginable, yet with us.
I follow the shadow behind the lurker who has not yet discovered herself as connected to the body of the rest of us.
I follow the ones who get no award nor badge nor followers. It takes heart to keep on singing in the dark.
I follow the one who is coming to terms with hard facts and complications and the inchoate anger about how he never knew the song.
I follow the quiet ones who are just trying to figure out how another’s universe could possibly fit inside their own AND whether or not they want another wheel in their heads.
I follow the ones who have no cred and get no cred and think they have no penny to ante.
Let us put out a feast for these prodigals. Then let us find them, follow them, imagine them forth, embrace their shadows, connect and extol and most of all name them to the world. Let us invite them in to sing. Let us help them risk something for the sake of surprise.
The song we lose may never save the world.