I’ll Be Right Back

photo by the author

Some girl’s lost silver ring, dangling from a hanging strap on the 510 Herttoniemi bus, darts a wayward ray of light my way and I blink, thinking I’ll come back to this moment and it will be whatever I need it to be. It will be one of those welcome-back-into-the-world moments, those shake-yourself-back-like-a-dog-drying-itself-in-slow-motion-moments. I’ll come back to this moment and I’ll hardly feel the continents slip beneath me and South Africa will again become Finland and again I’ll understand how I dragged myself here singing “Leave her Johnny, leave her” in the name of love. The kindness of the act, of hanging that ring up there, has the effect on me that all sweet things have. It feels like someone slowly unfolding me from inside, like a limp origami bird, and I hope it’s not a wedding band, that dangling ring, but a loss forgiven again and again, and again. What but forgiveness can all our circles and coils and everlasting loops be for? What came before? When we had only our bodies for truth? I’ll come back to this moment and it will be just as I remember it, some girl’s lost ring, dangling from a hanging strap.