Amidst the Din

This morning
like any other;
rising, moving,
engaging in business of the day.
The business is delivery
of young women to a leadership forum,
and then the wait...
So, I feed my body and quench
caffeine thirst.
Just a quick stop, I say to myself.
Check in on emails,
Sip hot liquid,
Nibble at fruit,
Check blog.
The Din begins.
Richmond waking with me.
Amazing how a morning morphs
from quiet respite
to jumbled laughter,
food preparations,
orders and conversations.
Some hurry in and out,
off to the days adventures.
Others linger,
wrapped in tale sharing
with a friend,
feeding soccer clad youngsters,
giggling, squirming energy hardly contained in small vessels.
A conga line ebbs
and flows in a march
from swinging doors
to order taking.
Jockeying for nesting spots,
nibbling at goods,
random movement
in and about the humming space,
paints a picture
living and passing
into memory.
Neural imprints of a colorful cacophony,
a decidedly American opus.
Part and apart,
participant and voyeur
straddling the tapestry
unfolding
and hitchhiking
for a time within my own and others reality
or fantasy.
It is morning
and I have a parcel of time to spend
weaving in and out
the periphery
of other lives,
until
at appointed hour,
when business dictates
I will return to pick up,
to deliver girls safely
at home's door.
But for now,
pleasure is
the Din of silent voices
poured out
upon a blog
mingling with the clamor
of beings
strange and wonderful.
Partaker of the morning
conversations, musings
and movements.
Being.
Just being,
Here and now.
One with the Din.