Sunday, August 9, 2009

everyday magic

I had a garage sale yesterday. My mom came over to help with my daughter and was sitting outside, chatting with me. We were bored of watching people walk quickly through the garage, not buying anything. Suddenly, out of a nowhere, a small car pulled up and parked. Doors flew open and about six people came pouring out-more people than we imagined could fit into the car. An older man, with longish, wild hair walked up and sat down next to us as his family began to pour over my pile of books. He said he was a poet. We asked him to tell us a poem. He asked for a piece of paper and began scribbling. When he was done, he stood before us and, with his beautiful Spanish accent, recited what he just written. I hope he doesn't mind if I share it with you here:

Let me make a sculpture of you...
not of stone
or clay
But with the clouds
High above
and I will
mold with
my Hands
all the form
de tu cara bonita
Gently with my
write letters
on the sky
telling the world
How beautiful you are


As we talked he told us about a short story he wrote. Pulling his sleeve up, he showed us a large scar that he said he got from an accident, when he was a boy, working in a mercury mine. His father was a doctor and played a part in the story, but he didn't want to ruin his short story for us. He said he would leave it in my mailbox one day. His family payed for their book selections, piled back into the car and left. If I wasn't holding Rocky's poem in my hand, I would wonder today if it had all been a dream.

I am always delighted when an experience such as yesterday's happens. When a mundane day turns amazing. Thank you, Rocky and family, for stopping by and bringing your magic to me.