Watching the ebb an flow of servant, slave, master on a faster pace than mine, cogs in a machine or souls in a silent scream longing to escape the pace of commerce that doesn’t make cents in the long run. Schedules filled with appointments, meetings, crunch numbers, graphs and charts make money fast or your job won’t last past lunch times break back to the cage cubical time stamp punch clock drone. Homeless man watches and waits as the lunchtime bustle flows past his gaze reaching out for scraps or some change wondering if he is more free than the bees swarming back to their 9-5 hive of busy for “the man” than his daily search for food. Hunger pangs last in brief until someone’s reach gives just a piece to a needy soul. Hustler on street corner selling a remedy, a “felony”or a way to make ends meet, that look in his eyes as if preparing for war in a moments notice ready to pounce, attack, defend not willing to spend another day doin time for a crime he didn’t commit. Eyes of judgement fall upon in passing gazes of the man who lives safely with in the confines of a corporate web, when white collar crimes fall by the wayside dismissed. Who’s to blame oneself or society we think, on the brink of revolution yet dulled in controlled apathy the path we weave is unseen in the eyes of most but with words backed by a way of life there is change to spare of idealism or reality, the choice…is yours. Decide daily, but be aware of consequence and backlash, brave soul freed from the spiders grasp if only for a moment.
From miles away I hear her voice
Wherever I go she is in my blood
Visions of her drift in my mind as night soothes me to sleep
I ride alongside her with the wind in my hair, the sun on my face
She parts the mountains and paves the valleys
She is the pathway to my home
I am realizing how much she has become a part of me
Longing to drift on her currents and wake up where the sea meets her open mouth to the city below
I breathe her in and cool my feet in her in visions of days past and memories to come.
This place and the weight it places on the shoulders of those who pass it by in the night. Looking on and out the windows as the world goes by pieces of me drifting out into the dark air. Bitterness in the hearts of men, their words can stick and fester, rotting the core of beauty and light. A small voice wells up inside me speaking in tongues I have almost forgotten, amnesia of the bright and beautiful. There is a war waged in secret under the layers of intent and passion. Each word each part of me that fights and gasps for breath unknown to me until I awake in dreams. When everyone around you sings the song of hopeless you must raise your voice higher to reveal the depths of the road we travel on. Building a place of hope and rest inside the arms of salvation. Bitterness will blind us change us infuse its black blooded sorrow into every pore. every breath. Saying to ourselves none of this matters, when all of it matters, every word every action matters.
This world is a sinking ship tossed by the waves of a slow quiet death. My spirit speaks and commands me to rise up, to stand on solid ground. Ship wrecked and broken but alive! I awake and hear the seas below me in my resting place as the current takes us to our destination. Im just passing through a drifter, a gypsy with a song in my heart that like candle light can flicker and fade out, but when it shines it brings the light into our eyes. A light that reveals the shadows that linger all around us. See the true face of the figures that pass us as we drift in thought. No longer numb to the pain, I feel all of those lies come back and find their resting place in me. Each day, each morning there is a chance to sing the songs of separation and the lowly or connect to the the rays of morning light that beckon us to a greater calling. I pray to see with unclouded eyes face to face with the spirit of him who sent me. As I gasp for air amidst the sea of darkness reaching up to the heavens..
I am still alive, my small voice calling out to my people hope is deathless in our spirits. The flame will never die in me even after I breathe my last… Call on me & I will answer. “Here I am, send me”