Alejandro played his drum next to bronzed Harvey Scott. Alejandro, reaching for wisdom, had come upon a fervent truth. He seemed eager to share it with me.
"Every day is a ceremony," he said. "I've seen how people have gathered. In the last year I've learned so much and come so far. " His thoughts stumbled upon each other as they raced to get out.
"On the day that I was born, they said I was the grandfather of the earth, that I came down from the stars to spread the spirituality. I look to the East, to Quetzalcoatl. To the West, where the sun will set: the sun that will guide us when we die. Every day we pray for the transformation. To the North, is the final resting place. To the South are the sun temples. It is there that I will return.
"I've seen how we can become enlightened. I've seen what we're capable of. If we all come together in the way that our ancestors believed, we could change the world."
I fumbled for eloquence, but found none. "I'm behind you 100%," I said. "Change the world, will you?"
We were at the top of Tabor. The sun, our guide for the Great Transformation, shone proudly.
Alejandro returned to his drumming. The throb and boom of his cadence buoyed my spirits as I departed.
A murdered pigeon lay on the sidewalk. A scarlet spot marked the place where its life-blood had gone. The eyes were closed, the talons clutched upon themselves, as if in ecstasy.
The ecstasy beyond all judgement and doubt. The ecstasy that comes with arriving at a certainty.