(This poem was made into a performance piece and presented at The Mattress Factory in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in October, 2011)
While soft city noises flow through dim-lighted streets
and the Nile continues its inevitable passage to the sea
I sit quietly, reflecting on where we’ve been and
where we might be going…Who knows, I ask
but there are no answers to the questions we most
seek to have answered, either by ourselves or others.
New paths might be new beginnings but more often
dwindle into lost chances and empty diversions.
My city, I tell myself, my beloved city, that old lady,
unable to breathe, unable to cleanse herself,
trash blowing under cars, hanging onto fences,
collecting like grimy islets in the majestic river.
No one screams, no one even talks about it anymore,
or the Black Cloud or other unwelcome visitors–
so common, impotent rage wraps around sadness,
in a helpless embrace, no words to be heard.
But wait! We are here to brush away reminders
of mortality, to erase fears through life’s joys,
appreciating anew the daily small miracles
and accomplishments achieved through efforts
unspoken, help from still corners, dear friends,
beloved family, and faith that deepens in love,
in reflection of all that has come before and
whatever mysteries might wait ahead.