Monday, May 13, 2013

to bridge, acortar la distancia


a car ride with a head full,
i count the bridges
along the way
one,
two,
three, four
five, if you count the last half-ass one on my road, which i don't
innumerable, if you consider the worlds traveled between, which i do

tonight i seek reconciliation, and that sweetness
eludes me

Rachell?
i heard a voice say,
asking,
is that you?
yes, i think,
in some form, it's me
and i turn my head
to see
a face from my childhood,
the mother of a schoolmate from elementary school
Grace?
yes, it's she and Ryan, too
who was still in a stroller the last time i saw him, maybe four?
i recognize only his eyes,
and his gaze is quick and fleeting

Grace opens up to me
and pours out a flood of years
stories and updates,
and then,
what brought them here

they are looking for a sleeping bag
they are sleeping in the park downtown
i know the one,
with the bridge
where the shadows hang out
beautiful by day,
but different after sunset

her husband left
when she was outta work
and she and her son were evicted from their home
of sixteen years,
she talks and i listen
and watch sweet Ryan
as he's pacing,
and i'm guessing
he is 'autistic' or something
of that nature
i can feel
his sensitivity in me-
and i know,
it must be torture for him,
living on the street
i give thanks
when i also feel his resiliency

they are struggling to get help
getting what they need
because there is no place in the system
for a homeless woman and her homeless grown dependent son
there are no programs for that,
they don't quite fit
for them, the "government safety net" doesn't exist-
she could go to a number of shelters,
but housing for Ryan would mean a group home,
where he would be totally alone
he doesn't want that, and she doesn't either
they want to stay together

Love is exchanged
and i leave,
but this scene
doesn't leave me

it fills my head and breaks my heart
over and over
and over again,
how? how? HOW?

how do we live in a society that allows for this?
how do we walk over people lying in the street,
and then past empty houses and vacant buildings?
how do we trick ourselves into believing
that somehow they are bad or something?
and that's what got them there, on the bottom, begging

i think
more and more people are pushing closer to the edge
and realizing
how short a fall it is, really
and how impossibly hard and long a climb
i hope
people will change their minds
and open their hearts
when it's someone whose name they know
when the faces
on the corner or under the bridge
become strikingly familiar,
and hit closer to home.




may everyone have enough to eat.
may everyone find shelter and home.
may everyone know love.





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