Let me talk about bubbles

“…yo amo los mundos sutiles,
ingrávidos y gentiles,
como pompas de jabón.”

        -Antonio Machado

     These trembling spheres contain all the magic and excitement of the hands yearning to hold them. Admit it, your heart cracks a little every time they pop. Like a microscopic twinge on your soul.

They are born thick and quivering, as if they were about to burst out laughing. As if the breath that gave them life hid the happiest secret in the universe. Frail and flirty they make you want to be weightless with them and vanish in a sigh, leaving a glint of magic and a taste of color in the air.

I can’t keep my inner child on her leash whenever I see them giggling through the wind. Untouched by gravity, untouched by sorrow, careless and free.

I wish I could turn into nothing and ride them to the endless sky where we would gently fade away with one last laugh, and then be gone.