Friday, June 19, 2009

In the heart of The City

I lay in bed last night
listening to the sound of the rain
falling asleep to the sound of the rain
like the plucked strings of a toy guitar
plink plink plink
against the window.

I thought of the crazy homeless guys
I see every day
in the heart of The City.
One of them spins in circles
begging anyone anyone
begging anyone at all
to spare some change
can you please spare
some change please
can you spare
some change.
He holds no container
no dirty coffee cup
to hold the gifts
people may give
and so
no one does.

He spins in his circles
and cries out in his raspy voice
thickened from too much smoke or
from too much crying out -
I have no way to know -
he spins with his arms
spread wide and
cries out to the passersby,
to the mute buildings that
surround him
to the Universe itself
buddy can you spare some change
please can you spare some change.

I think of the Sufis and
their spinning
spinning in ecstasy
in worship and communion with
the Great Mystery
the Great Beloved
spinning in their colorful robes and
flowing outfits
reaching their hands to the sky and
spinning in love
and I can't help but think
that if you took that
crazy homeless guy and
you put him in colorful robes
and you turned down the volume
and you let him do his thing
you would not be able to tell
who spins in ecstasy and
who spins in pain.

June 19, 2009

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