Courthouse across Toronto City Hall
Squatting on busy street corner
Eyes luminous as grey clouds
Ask him what is he doing here ?
When the last of lashes ended
When the last of thorns struck
is laid above the glass ceiling
Every Sunday mass
When chapel doors open to everyone
But here in train pack or city swarming
of people of every skin color & hair
Would I know you?
Would you be the one standing with a bullhorn
and a street placard,
Or giving out flyers to pedestrians ?
Or playing an old rusty guitar to faceless throng?
Are you the old man muttering to himself
Frail as fractured mirror, hair in disarray?
Or blind young man with a beautiful golden dog?
In the sudden warmth of morning sun
I see shadows hovering, ambivalent of dove's return.
moderation and free will
I touch my mother's blessed rosary & water
Perhaps I am saved by her faithful prayers.
She tells me a faith healer has eased my father's pains.
As I pass by
a man with vitiligo, huddled beside a dirty plate,
a woman with empty street cart shouting-
Any old shoes ! Any old clothes!
If you come across the Messiah, please let me know.
Process Notes:I have used the following words from the list provided by Anthony Desmond: Luminous, Glass, Door, Plate, Vitiligo, Messiah, Warmth, Shadow.
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Thanks for the visit ~