Meant for Mars

It’s as if we landed on Mars. It’s proximal to the land of conversation, but the people here feel a cloud of distortion. We ring the bell and the only person that can answer is the one who works inside. We push our gurney into the cage; we’ve let go of our defense. Now, we just trust those who man the mental and hope that the pursuit of happiness is a bright lamp to those who walk and stroll inside.

By now, we’ve passed about four patients. I didn’t know Patient #5 was active and curious. My peripheral told me she was looking. I turned to her; she was wide eyed and big bodied. She wanted her privacy. Patient #6 surprises me. She’s young with a sensational figure; she’s attractive and her presence is luring. But she has a wristband. She’s been admitted. This planet took her in. And we’re with patient #7. He was the ticket to our entry. He speaks few words and comprehends even fewer syllables. I speak to him in Korean and he turns the possibility of helping us get in contact with family members into a hard hike. He says he lives with Hollywood actors. A social worker will accommodate him further.

Some of us want to discover Mars. But most of us don’t want to live there. Its organisms breathe a different air and we haven’t found much to know that there’s anything there that comprehends our language. If our mission extends to the ends of the earth, I’m sure there’s an infinite capability that love can travel there as well. If love settles there, Mars won’t seem so far away from us. It’s a planet in the midst of our own- sometimes, the people there will be grouchy, angry, and disgusting. But we should think that if love hadn’t settled here, then we’d be the same scoop of fragile annoyance disappearing onto another planet. But they’re here planted on our street corners and concrete blocks- yet this dirt shows possibility for growth and life. Our response to research and discovery is exciting. There’s something beautiful in them that we shouldn’t shy away to see; our existence comes from the same Creator and as much as we’ve been given breath, He wants us to breathe in that direction.

I tried finding patient #8;  I remember bringing him in the day before, but the board didn’t have his last name written up. We had a pleasing conversation in the back of the ambulance and I remember thinking, “He’s not meant for Mars”.  He got out. Good for him.

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