Contributor: Dustin Murdach

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A man stands, outside in the dark

In a busy part of town, he quenches the vacancy of a dark parking lot

A dead end

The empty dumpster behind him, his only friend

The only thing in this populated, well lit, busy town that is even aware of the man's existence, this dumpster

The whole world completely unaware of this man or what has brought him here

It's dark

He carries three heavy bags tied all around him, he is a bell hop of loneliness

One on his back, one hanging from the front

And one held at his waist

The heaviest one, making it obvious that the ground is an old friend that hasn't been seen in a long time

The bag craves to let gravity do its job, but the man refuses

Until he reaches his new acquaintance

An empty dumpster, in a dark parking lot, at a dead end, in a busy town

Well lit and populated indeed

He carries 3 bags

With all that he has

He drags his whole life, his existence, inch by inch, step by step

Avoiding any set destination

For upon arriving at a chosen location, the reality hits that there's nothing there

Nothing more, than where you were before

And where you'll be, eventually

No guess work, no trying to think of where to go

Direction deceived this man long ago

Drifting with the wind

Intuition

An honest friend

Maybe this way better than that

Either way, you are where you're at

Standing by an empty dumpster, the man waits

For guidance, for feeling

For the sake of not moving

The breeze light, warm, and unafraid to embrace a total stranger

It gathers him up, wraps around him like a trauma blanket given at the scene of an accident

Reassuring him

Telling him he's lonely, but not alone

For the man has no way of feeling others

For they know not of him

Yet the wind is known, and felt by all, but can never feel a single one

How fragile the embrace of something that can only give, not be seen, asks nothing in return, and keeps us constantly reminded of its existence

For the breeze has touched every man, woman, and child who has ever walked atop this earth

And is connecting everyone, at all times

For the gust that just brushed your face, was the very same that helped build this place

That soft breeze flowing through your hair, is a universal blessing that we all share

The very same that Jesus, Einstein, Da Vinci, and all the great men of history, is now, and always, embracing a perfect stranger

The same breeze that graced every great man, is embracing you now, just wave your hand

For the men who have been written as having the greatest impact on the world, are all but strangers to the breeze

They are but the same to the wind

Men who were worshiped by millions, even men, with only a dumpster as a friend.


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Hello my name is Dustin Murdach. I'm 25 years old and live in Southern Illinois. Thank you for reading.