Traveling

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I have been traveling,
but I am not really playing,
at least not yet
and I am still at home.

Swaggy from China wants to go to see the Timberwolves play,
a real NBA game, he says.

I’ve never really cared much for such things,
aside from the roar of the crowd and the passion of others,
but maybe I am the fool…

I wonder:
is God in the game?

Maybe,
when the tired school gymnasiums are filled for a day with pews for worship,
she stands at the free-throw line,
shooting hoops in a neon jumpsuit
while the choir sings and the preacher makes final amendments to his words,
the congregation eyeing the windows with subtle yearning.

Perhaps,
the stars,
the dirt,
the trees…
prerequisites for a bouncing rubber orb on shining wooden floors,
spilled soda, sticky on the concrete,
the smell of stale popcorn and sweaty enthusiasm,
racing sausages and hints of a dormant desire to defile.

What an ego to toss the word “nature” around as we do.
“The natural world”
“The great outdoors”
Pre-teens looking back at childhood’s smiles with a smirk and rolled eyes,
no interest in those who have survived a few years longer either,
“I am at the top and always will be!”

…but I have been traveling;
the whistle cries, shrill.

I step to the court.