Trees in the dark-part 3.

Nothing that is really understood by her is taught at her school. She is a quiet and polite child. The kind that the teachers tend to forget and somehow now and again remember with fondness and familiarity. Ming thinks that she understands the teachers, and they understand her. If they are to be informed that Ming is actually this particular child that likes to wander on the street long after nightfall, if indeed they are to see her in her current exuberantly happy alertness, Ming is sure that their reaction to her would be a nod to her as a sign of recognition, not having much of an eye contact, coaching their face to a thoughtful and untroubled outlook like they always do and walk away after this series of rather one-sided exchange. Ming does not know whether she just imagines this, so in actual life (she is the furthest from it now), the adults would stop her progress to the park and escort her back to her parents (she’s the furthest from them also). But somehow she knows they would not stop her. They know her as she knows them. The danger may be real, but the dreamer is the most dangerous of all.

Time and time again, there is this drumming in her heart. She tries to find the source of it. It’s like the whole universe is silent and pulsing at the same time. At this point, or any other points in her current path, she is a moving center of the universe. She has the pleasure of keeping and sensing her own gravitational pull, the leisure to gaze up at the inky class of a heaven to account for her minions: the stars, and her queen: the moon. They are there for her, and she is there for them.

The wind comes and goes, one moment there, the next blends back to the sublime. Caresses with wisdom without source, kindness without bound. Ming thinks, not for the last time that she just might be floating with it. Indeed she is, the only things touching the ground one after the other are her own feet, and they are but a tiny surface compared to the whole of her body, which is dipped in the cool velvety night air along with the celestial hosts inside of it. If she just let go of her feet, why, she is in the air, between the joined embrace of earth and heaven. The drumming is the only thing that exists, she herself is everywhere.

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