HEAVEN EXISTS ON EARTH

Sitting in a folding chair on my balcony overlooking this wonder, I wrote a note to a dear friend: "The air is thick with death, I have finally escaped my nightmarish sleep. This April I will have resided in Brownsville 50 years. During these five decades the city has become filled with ghosts. I only pray that I pass before any of my three sons meet their inevitable fates. I'm sorry to start your week on such a dark note, but sometimes the cosmos rubs your face in the dust to which we'll return."

I have learned enough from my Zen studies that there is only the moment. As I peer across the resaca at the college campus in the distance, this is the moment that I embrace each morning sipping a cup of coffee. I return to Mother Nature. We are children of something much bigger than ourselves and we must strive to be one with that breath-taking force.

I have lived in many places in Brownsville. I've inhabited a dozen edifices downtown. I once rented an abandoned office in the Samano building. The elevator worked, but there were no bathrooms and I would have to shit and piss out one of the windows on the alley side. I could relate even worse horror stories about my "humble" abodes, but I will save those anecdotes for the next novel.

In my second marriage we bought a house on Military Highway and in my third marriage we purchased property in Palo Verde. They were comfortable residences and I raised two separate families in each one. The homes are part of those melancholy memories. I have lived in several other neighborhoods on the northside, so there are few citizens who know Brownsville as intimately as I do.

I can say without a doubt, however, that at my present locale I have never had a view that compares to the old Fort Brown complex. I relax and for a brief period I can make time stop. I practice my guitar since I've returned to El Hueso de Fraile Thursday nights as the opening act. I read poetry rather than any other genre. I'm a devoted admirer of Pablo Neruda. I peruse one of his verses and then peer toward the horizon.

Ducks, seagulls and pelicans glide between the encircling stands of palm trees. There is a freedom in flying that we as humans can't experience, but if there were ever a stretch of land that was conducive to walking, I am in the middle of that pastoral setting. There is no need for meditation. Or medication for that matter. You empty your mind as you immerse yourself in the serenity of observing the world around you.

When I wake up in the morning, I immediately exit my front door and inhale deeply. I gaze at the wildlife, the resaca's surface and the historical brick buildings in the growing light. I come to the quick conclusion that I can count on another day of existence.

It's not often I have the opportunity to share something with my readers that conveys my niche in the universe. This vista is my reality. Surrounded by incomparable beauty, I take comfort in knowing that God is doing his best to calm my troubled soul.