Thought for the day:
Where does love go when it can't find a home?
is it sitting on the street corner holding a cup or a sign,
hoping and clinging to whatever the next stranger is willing to spare?
Is it unkempt, needs to shave?
Where does it go on the especially cold days? Is there a community shelter?
Does it just sit, with it's sign, hoping for kindness to drive by and wave,
or will it simply avoid eye contact.
Does it wait for something?
(Maybe the bus?)
Is it remembering memories it would rather not remember?
Will it enjoy the nice day like the people walking by,
the people
trying not to look but staring,
the people that feel pity, feel helpless,
but not...
Help full,
a smile, a look not full of pity,
All full of awareness but not so much concerned.
Is this where love is when it has no home?
Is this where love sits while you drive to school?
To work?
Off to make the world a better place?
Day after day, alone. By choice? By circumstance?
Maybe by a slight chemical imbalance?
Is this where love is?
Walking down the street with a rake, hoping to survive the day? Is this where love waits?
Alone. Forgotten?
Enduring the heat, the cold, the not knowing?
While you lie in your bed that's as big as you'd hoped, is love sleeping under
a bridge, cold and damp?
While your doing your laundry, complaining about grass stains,
is love barely clothed?
While your all dressed up in a big white dress,
is love there?
Watching from across the street?
While your children are at school,
playing outside, is love sitting on the corner with a mispelled sign?
In ten years when you feel alone, and your wondering what went wrong?
Is love there? Does it have a cold?
Will you be driving by one day, will something
feel off? Where is that stranger?
The one who's on the corner,
the one who slept under the bridge,
barely clothed,
unkempt and needs to shave,
will you keep driving?
because though you feel some part of you has flown away-
there is no headstone,
no real tears,
no notice of eviction,
no goodbye,
but maybe a flicker,
or a light bulb, a heavy knowing?
here lies love?
Where does love go when it can't find a home?
is it sitting on the street corner holding a cup or a sign,
hoping and clinging to whatever the next stranger is willing to spare?
Is it unkempt, needs to shave?
Where does it go on the especially cold days? Is there a community shelter?
Does it just sit, with it's sign, hoping for kindness to drive by and wave,
or will it simply avoid eye contact.
Does it wait for something?
(Maybe the bus?)
Is it remembering memories it would rather not remember?
Will it enjoy the nice day like the people walking by,
the people
trying not to look but staring,
the people that feel pity, feel helpless,
but not...
Help full,
a smile, a look not full of pity,
All full of awareness but not so much concerned.
Is this where love is when it has no home?
Is this where love sits while you drive to school?
To work?
Off to make the world a better place?
Day after day, alone. By choice? By circumstance?
Maybe by a slight chemical imbalance?
Is this where love is?
Walking down the street with a rake, hoping to survive the day? Is this where love waits?
Alone. Forgotten?
Enduring the heat, the cold, the not knowing?
While you lie in your bed that's as big as you'd hoped, is love sleeping under
a bridge, cold and damp?
While your doing your laundry, complaining about grass stains,
is love barely clothed?
While your all dressed up in a big white dress,
is love there?
Watching from across the street?
While your children are at school,
playing outside, is love sitting on the corner with a mispelled sign?
In ten years when you feel alone, and your wondering what went wrong?
Is love there? Does it have a cold?
Will you be driving by one day, will something
feel off? Where is that stranger?
The one who's on the corner,
the one who slept under the bridge,
barely clothed,
unkempt and needs to shave,
will you keep driving?
because though you feel some part of you has flown away-
there is no headstone,
no real tears,
no notice of eviction,
no goodbye,
but maybe a flicker,
or a light bulb, a heavy knowing?
here lies love?
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