Looking Up

My favorite building on BYU campus is a rosy tan goliath. It is adorned with eyes of light from which those inside observe the world with an air of perception, and those outside look in with the wonder of a child perusing a picture book, wondering, were there words, what they would say.
It forms a square around a courtyard where a tall fountain and paths of green form my Eden. Long ago in Eden, God communed with man. He walked in the lushness of his own perfect creation. Every blade of grass would bend to hear his voice as he imparted to Adam and Eve the wonders of heaven. Here in my Eden the great writers of every age impart to me their wisdom and my every fiber reaches for their words.
Room 4142 on the top-most floor is claimed. It is to be mine when I am numbered with the great ones. It stands today as the office of Patrick Madden - a creative essayist. Soon, my name will adorn the plaque beside the office door. With my boxes of books and a framed bar of chocolate with the caption "In case of Emergency Break Glass" I shall make that space my home. Books spilling off of every surface like molasses, thick with the sweet words of wisdom, the gushiness of romance, and the slowness of a meditative mind . . . I shall kick back in my desk chair, my fuzzy black boots that lace to the knees propped up on the desk, a book or three in my lap, and a cup of steaming hot chocolate right within reach, stacks of papers enclosing me in my own little cubicle, light streaming in from the large window from which I shall pear out at the world with new eyes. Having reached the peak I shall look back on the climb, take in the beautiful vistas, and then, in pursuit of ever greater heights, I shall spread my wings and fly.
Somewhere along the way, I shall look down and see a young girl looking up with her eyes fixated on room 4142, a book in her hand, knee-high black boots walking amongst the Eden, with dreams as high as heaven . . .

Candidly,
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