MUSINGS OF A CITY BOY

Revised

Listening to street noise, the computer, the radiator knocking and the clock ticking,

for me these city sounds have replaced those of the rushing stream, the owl and hawk, the sugar trees popping in the bitter cold.

I’m a city boy now. Guess I always have been. It’s an attitude.

There’s mystery midst the buildings just like in the deep woods

walking through the trees or on a city street, not knowing what’s around the bend or corner seems the same.

It’s not just the beauty but the danger too:

a doe in one place, a street musician in the other,

treacherous footing in the one, a threatening vagrant in the other.

Passover begins tomorrow and Easter comes on Sunday.

Will they make a difference?

Touch us? Have any impact on us urban dwellers?

Bring a word of hope to those on Fire Island?

On Riker’s Island?

Any healing to little Judith in her tiara or to old Ruth stumping along with her cane on 23rd St?

Any consolation to the mother of Amadou Diallo or to Kermit laying in the grass in Madison Square Park?

Any promise to the lonely trader or the lonely preacher?

Jesus, walk with us in the dark woods and on the dark streets.

Speak a word to us.

Moses, raise you staff.

Help us to negotiate the bramble and the traffic.