Life, actually…

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E EQUALS A QUIET AND KINDLY ELDER

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Decades ago, when we were younger and mostly hopeful, when stars above were stoically pure, when we were on the verge of dismissing all the surrounding beauties, when we nevertheless continued our quest for perfection, our search for impossible perfections in all dusty pasts…

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Way back then, before Now seemed impossible…

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This actually happened:

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My since-childhood friend Pat, who now resides in Arlington, Virginia, keeps telling me she wants to take me to see Albert…I just have to see Albert, she keeps saying. So, petite granddaughter Jessica and petite spouse Liz and dumpty Me visit my lifelong pal and follow her.

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One night in the still and cold darkness near a famous boulevard next to the seat of human power in North America, we four make our way to see Albert.

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As we round old greenery, we come face to face with Albert.

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There, seated beneath the godly stars, atop a fabricated field of stars, sits Albert, ruminating upon the universe, a larger-than-life-itself presence who at once seems both dignified and cosmos-struck,

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The impressionistic and truly wonderful statue of Albert Einstein, star-molder whose thoughts have toyed with the heavens and thus begotten users and abusers—those who seek to re-form the world in peace and those who seek to control by fear the very solemn and gentle people like Einstein, who simply want to be left alone to live and eventually with grace dissipate into the ether once more.

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The statue is a magnificent tribute to the human gossamer spirit that brings us joy, and now and then gets us into trouble.

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Albert just sits there, gigantic, small, solitary…holding a writing pad in his lap with a few simple formulae jotted down, his sandals and sweater and flowing hair the very symbols that bring nonviolent power to a moment in time.

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The sculptor has done the right thing, for Albert’s statue is not your typical noble horse-astride general nor your toga’d god nor your brave-in-battle fighter. Albert’s statue is designed to be touched and hugged by humans. You can sit on his knee, gaze at The Formula. Stare along with him at the twinkly-scattered universe.

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He is hidden from direct view, so that he is not beckoning tourists.

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He is waiting to be quietly discovered in the middle of a quiet night, where he sits and contemplates the uncontemplatable and thinks the private thoughts we all have the right to think, too

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© Jim Reed 2024 A.D.