The Write Launch 4/3/21
Is it failing eyes or conscience since we seem not to see how Rodney stands alone exposed to torrential rain in wind teeming masses hurry past umbrellas clash like swords
downcast heads dwell on where to go as they ignore the plaintive plea I AM HUNGRY says its sign in letters bright and bold the apathy of others should always leave us cold
that no one stops is hard to see it keeps Rodney in the depths of anonymity will no one spare a dime or time with compassion if not love how many in the crowd claim they're religious or devout pray to God on Sunday but worship Mammon now
to me the diner window as if a museum's gilded frame when I glanced right across the side street revealed Rodneys striking sight
neither Monet's Garden at Givenchy nor Pissarro's Montmartre Boulevard match the majesty of Rodney's steadfast stance in showers
as he righteously upholds his right to live to thrive as you or I or anyone among commuters passing by
the Good Samaritan's heart and eyes were open and Jesus bore the cross they'd show mercy in a blizzard all faiths tell such tales
I have to go the waiter's told my partner understands as New York's 17th and 6th becomes the Jericho Road
pulling Jacksons from my pocket I dash and splash dodge skidding bikes and cars to soak with Rodney in the deluge where I ask his and say my name
reaching for my brother's hand to get him out of rain nourished with a hot meal safely warm and dry
I say this not as self-praise what I did was small I just wonder why on earth we won't share enough for all we boast of freedom but from shackled minds
corporate titans live in splendor as their bottom lines balloon with fifteen bucks an hour for those who shine their shoes or serve the lunch too much elected leaders say
they've made us mighty with our missiles we have four hundred five to point at nations overseas but I fear more than China or the Russians
how we treat the least of these let's save lives instead of killing with the thirty million dollars that a single missile costs
so many people languish in distress in sunshine snow or rain how wise we'd be to help them it would build community
in all the coastal cities and our heartland towns if we'd wake up from our sitcoms and commercials ignore the talking heads
a nation with the know-how to reach the Moon and Mars could allocate some housing and create some jobs while feeding all the people at all the corners missed
amid the office towers where aluminum and glass shield those who push the hedge funds while they try to build a brand
as Rodney stands alone in rain beware his fate could come your way because life has no guarantee would you not want someone to stop then go to see him now
before the anonymous Americans who with us live a lie stare at your soul each morning from the mirror while you brush hair or knot a tie
will your eyes stay open with your conscience clear as you travel on the daily trail that takes you where you go will loving kindness guide you
to help Rodney and his mythic kin if someone's boldly lettered sign or merely empty hand declare a personal emergency will you make the stranger welcome as a friend with genuine concern and
generosity to embrace at last that love grows from compassion and the sharing of resources that even in the lockdown have been enough for all
Enlightenment from the Buddha on the CHIPS Soup Kitchen's wall in Brooklyn.