parting, and not knowing.
drowning in wanting, needing,
and not having.
in the 11th hour
one word
could keep you going
one word
heard whispering from internal workings
of the Universe,
in tongue, in social media,
threading the air like music
on a Sunday morn
from street
to corner grocery store,
unexpected movement,
speaking to be heard
through the least of these
mouths of the poor,
cardboard desolate,
pavement lonely;
thick calloused worker hands
tenderly counting out dollar bills,
each symbolizing time and hard labor
away from doe-eyed children
clinging to grocery carts
longing for big corporation candy,
wanting, and yet not having
this land of the free
does not diminish want and need.
did you find everything you were looking for
I find myself saying
to a white sleeveless preacher man
Soft-drawled, and crucifix tattoo’d
who beamed cherub-like and replied
“I am blessed with Jesus’ blood And more.”
His pensive wife, tired from worry by his side
to which an elder black man smiled
and chimed across the aisle
“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I am?”
grinning with a glint in his eye
a plaid hat and walking stick
yet still walking out with buoyant stride,
thread-bare pockets and
a loaf of white bread cradled in his arms
and a pocketful of change to spare
throwing a word Into the air
for all to hear
“Blessed”
and I react with surprise
recognizing wisdom
whispered from universal wells
of wanting, and longing,
and knowing
that whatever I have is enough
and with a desperate nod,
breathe out
one word.
Yes.
Karen K.L. Espaniola September 15, 2015
hinarising 