You Were All at Once Still...(stream of consciousness writing 16)

You were all at once still.
Your pilgrimage now a vigil
Of soft light and whispers
About the good things
You did with your hands
And the good words
That sailed outward
From your lips
And the great ideas
That we're born in your mind.
The electricity of all these things
Snapping sparks in the whirring
Buzz of metal prongs-
The synapses fired off
As flecks of hot grease
Jumping out from the skillet.

You were all at once still
Like a fragrance in a room
That hasn't been opened
For decades
Where the walls even creak
As you walk across the hardwood
Floor to the window
To look out on the world
Where you grew up.

You were all at once still
Like a pile of salt
On the sidewalk
That could be looked at
With superstition
Or with lament
As the city burns to death
Back in the west.