Today I’m feeling rather productive in my productionlessness. My boss, however, disagrees.
It’s here in these early morning nighttime silences under shadows of abandoned office buildings— solitary light in the window, computer screens waiting to be wakened; in the silent shudders of trees and passing cyclists; here in the promise of the day that we must come to terms with the howling cries of death and hunger.
And I have seen a future of abandoned corporate office parks. I have seen parking lots deserted save for staggered cars parked with windows busted and garbage bag taped over. It is there that I have seen a future wherein the word hope has been replaced by neighbor. Longing, by community.
Where the sun-rise from the west behind thread-bare quilted blanket lies the bosom of a new day.
I saw her again, this time standing on the sidewalk, no bags, or cart or anything to own. I recognized her face, though she is only a stranger. Everything else had been washed out, empty of any other kind of existence. I wanted to run up to her, grab her by the hand and to tell her the good news; your face, it’s still recognizable! But she would’ve thought me crazy. So I kept walking, with all four dollars in my wallet.
We are the culture to one-up each other.
We are blessed, let us rest.
This poem came about from the observation (after a week of listening to the news) that we seem to be only willing to point a finger outward, while completely unwilling to look inward. Increasingly we see, hear, and feel the effects of an ever expanding economy. This agenda doesn’t care for the human spirit. I see these effects in my thoughts of comparing and judging, and putting down in a desperate effort to lift myself up. Beauty is found everywhere with an open mind.