Breathes and Cries

Breathes and Cries

 

Today

I walked deep in to lower Wacker

Attempting

To deliver a piece of thankfulness

To the crust of our lives

Who have been forced to hide

In a lonely spot

Where only the cold resides

The cold pavement and

The cold skies

Passing strangers glancing in judgment

With cold eyes

 

Any one of us in their shoes would be slowly dieing between the breathes and the cries

 

So I visited 5

 

Exchanging some hope for

A small piece of pride

Wondering if

Anyone would attend their funeral

If they suddenly died?

Wondering if

They had a daughter?

And if that daughter had become a bride?

Wondering if

This did happen would they be allowed inside

The wedding?

 

Or

 

If on that night the cries defeated the breathes

As they watched the setting sun

 

Living the next few years with

The hope of forgetting that day

Praying

That at some point someone would finally say

 

“It’s ok.  I love you anyway.”

 

Maybe our visit today

The day before we give thanks and pray

Shifted the current in some way

Maybe with faith causing some change

 

If nothing else

Our momentary exchange

 

Would be a momentary respite between the breathes and cries

Between

The cold pavement and the cold skies

And maybe, just maybe

 

Those cold eyes that passed

While

Hidden in their disguise

Would occur a little less

At least

For today

 

Then the magic happened when I met number 5

We communicated through action

Words

Had nothing to say

But

When I walked away

 

He replied from a peaceful place

 

“Namaste.”

 

Tears immediately filled my eyes

As I walked away

And realized

 

That my moment and his today

Were one and the same

 

So I came home and wrote

A huge lump in my throat

 

But not in my pen

 

This poem was written before it began