I watched the way the snow jumped off as I slid my hand down the icy iron handrail. In the middle of the night, no one is around to contain the forces that only God can control...the beauty of the snow as it fell underneath the abandoned streetlights...the bend of the branches under the weight of God's cotton. When the wind blew, a mist was driven into my face as I stood in the middle of that field bending down to light that rocket fuse. I had spent all night on it, precisely cutting cardboard and electricians tape. I was careful to make sure this rocket met my Lord in the sky. I flicked the wheel which ignited a spark on the flint and the wick erupted in flames. I took a step back to take it all in...the beauty of the moon lit sky reflecting off of the un-plowed snow...the wind that blew over garbage cans in a silent rebellion against mankind. I watched my breath rise from my mouth and find a home in the night sky. The rocket engine sparked, then flamed hotter than the sun and lifted the cardboard missile into the air so high I could not see it once the engine exploded. What a spectacle. What a sight to see. The smoke of it's desire to burn lingered in the night air, forming a trail of it's journey as far as the eye can see into the darkness, back-lit by the moon. It was a night to remember. One of those very few times when it is clear that God's beauty was still present in this destruction. One of those nights you would never forget a detail about. It was a night only my brothers could understand. It was an entire childhood bursting into beautiful sparks and finding purchase in the atmosphere, never to be found again. The next day, things would be normal again and we would forget what magic happened the night before, but we never forgot those nights. We were the only ones up in the entire world. No one saw us. No one lived at all during those moments. It was just us in the universe, blasting off into the winter snow. It was just us sitting on frozen park benches, eating the fresh powder that fell from God. Everyone and everything else faded away into the night. The world always slept when the Dead End Kids opened their eyes, spread their wings, and flew into the atmosphere.
It's been a long time since the Dead End Kids have opened their eyes.
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
