...had a moment there in yoga class when this bead of sweat was dripping down the bridge of my nose...gradually making its way down to the tip...and I was doing one of those mudra things so didn’t want to lift a hand to brush it away...so instead just felt it there...imagining its glassy clarity...possibly reflecting the ceiling lights...or the entire room...like one of those beads of sweat William Blake didn’t write about in Auguries of Innocence...but probably would have if he’d ever attended a yoga class on a hot July day in Philadelphia...To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
William Blake
....afterwards was going to see this Shakespeare in the park thing...A Midsummer Night’s Dream...stopping for a while under a railroad bridge to wait out a lightning storm...the kind where being under a solid stone bridge doesn’t really keep a person or bike from getting wet...as sheets of misty rain entered horizontally...a couple of other guys were there at first...but gradually made their way away...to somewhere...I stayed, coming out once it stopped to a bright blue above, seeming to have thoroughly forgotten what it had been doing moments before...got back on the bike, dodging fallen trees, branches, and rainwater running down side streets like raging streams, making it just at the time the play was supposed to start...to see actors packing up their truck, promising a rain-date next week...
...clearly, there's more than one kind of midsummer dream...
