don of the universe...III
It had been a particularly stressful Monday at work. Playing my music louder than is seemly for a thirty-six year old, and singing along, is my way of de-stressing on the drive home on days like this. As I've aged, my voice has changed, and I can't hit the high notes like I used to, so instead of singing the high harmony parts, I tend these days to hit the under harmony.
It was then that I heard him. Right there in the passenger seat next to me, Don was singing along with me, hitting the high notes that I once could. This time he was young, clean shaven, short haired, and bright faced. His eyes, however, still emanated the depth of distance, time, experience and mischeviousness that I'd noticed before. How he had gotten there, was much less disconcerting than the fact that he looked strikingly familiar.
When the song ended, he laughed. "I remember when the first proto-human sang. Actually sang. That was magic. Music and singing is older than language, you know?"
"I think I knew that." I replied.
We traveled in silence for a while, listening to the instrumental part of the song. Then I turned the music down just a bit, and asked him something I'd been wanting to ask for a ling time.
"Who are you?" I said. It sounded almost silly to ask this question, after encountering this person for so many years. But I had to know.
"I'm nobody important." Was all he said, as he looked out the window.
"But, you say you were there, at the beginning. Is that true?" I offered.
"Yes. It is." was his simple reply.
"Then...are you..." I couldn't bring myself to ask it. He sensed this and turned to look at me.
"The idea that God is inside of all of us is an arrogant notion, don't you think? I think it is. It dumbs down the very idea of God." he said with a smile on his face.
"What do you mean 'inside of all of us,' I was asking about you." I said.
"I know." he said.
As I exited on to Garden Springs off I-90, he was gone again.Labels: don of the universe