Anyone who has spent
time in Boston after dark might have noticed that there are homeless people who
spend their nights in the subway, riding back and forth from station to
station. The subway drivers know many of these men and women by name. If you
take the subway across town several times during an evening you might see the
same person two or three times, going different directions, stopping at
different stations. I especially notice this on Friday or Saturday nights
when young couples are dressed to dance or to see a show, and the atmosphere on the
trains is full of excitement and anticipation. One night, not too long
ago, I was watching a homeless man who was sitting in a seat looking up at the
various couples who were smiling and laughing. There was a very big smile
on his face as well, as if he was part of the group, although clearly he was
not. Still, there was a sort of vicarious participation going on
between this person and these young people. This was his
nightlife... his Saturday night out.
Times fleeting
hand passes across our experience and darkens life
to an unclean panorama of uncertainty.
As night falls,
Church bells ring the evening in on twilight mists that float up
the river,
spill over levees
and drift across
the rooftops of house after house.
What strange
spirit blows in on this wind tonight?
Where does
it come from?
And where
is it going?
While here in my
corner room I sit
Alone and aloft.
When the sun
drops below the edge of the horizon this city
sparkles like a jewel.
It's dazzling
beauty belies it's restless heart.
When all the
shops have closed down...
When all
concerns are put away...
Even then this
city does not sleep.
With
somnambulist fervor it tosses and turns like a child
with fever.
For beneath its
streets are teams of souls that wander aimlessly
Blinded by
suffering
and only too aware of
what draws them apart.
I wish
that I could
put my hand on this city's forhead
to help it settle down
I wish that I
could wrap it up warm blanket
inside a blanket
and sing a slow
soft lullaby
to help it come
around.
John
Boehmer May 2003 |
