Sunrise in South Orange - A Poem after an all-nighter

This morning I watched the sunrise in South Orange… I saw it creep over the hills and break the night with its first rays. I saw it cast illumination on the concrete and frozen ground surrounding me. As I sat on a wooden bench riveted to the ground and felt the first breath of warmth, I felt completely at peace. Peace. Peace with my place in the universe, a sensation as the last man on earth, completely free of all cares or obligations. For that moment I felt as though I fit into the puzzle, whatever its ultimate shape might be.

But the sun rose. And I was not alone. I existed for a moment a man devoid of longing or search for purpose. But the sun rose, and the first cars began to glide by on South Orange Ave. The first lights of the buildings begin to go on, silent sentinels calling me back to the reality in a way nature cannot. The awareness of my reality was all too striking, and I was again a man without his place in the world. I existed merely as another number, another face, with nothing driving but the conveyer belt. As the first people began to trickle out of their dreamless sleeps or restless nights, I became acutely aware of the missing piece. A puzzle with pieces facedown, with no guides or markers.

Now I sit in a cafeteria chair, row upon row, perfectly ordered before the chaos of the day. Order, but beauty in the slight imperfections of a hasty rearranging before the dawn. Where does this leave me, an hour from my exam? Without an answer, without purpose. Feeling jumbled, hastily tossed into the wrong box where I will never find the perfection or beauty of knowing exactly where I fit. Yet, there is hope. The sun did rise. I am still in this world, though maybe not where I believe I ought to be. So I am again left as the seeker. I am tired now. Tired of seeking, tired of crashing and rising tides. But the sun did rise. And I am still in this world. Now I must find reason, I must find trust. Trust that I am not by accident.

Existing in Glass boxes. See the others, unable to touch. See the paths, unable to change course. Scream. Nothing. Is it breakable? Breakable by courage. Breakable by longing. Breakable by love.

Seems too easy. Seems too hard.

Now its no longer quiet, I am among the jumble. Someday? Hope. The sun did rise. I am still in this world.