The streets I walk are filled with eyes
There are persons passing me by, people I bypass
There are souls alive I barely ever know, soles that thread snappily, or sluggishly
There are paces to lives, faces to size up, twice as many thumbprints as there are lives lived
But for figures, I could have been more careful
Numbers are a forgetful label, worse than trashing from form to stale stones
Peebles, dull reflection painting grey versions of life into mental existence
So hasty, hectic, flip flap, floppy, rushed,  trivial, near-invisible thread
Worthless, like nothingness, pointless

In thinking, I trace translucence, character traits bouncing off us all
Faith raises the life high, to leave sighs and resigned shrugs behind
Fate raises no consequence, save for no movement, radical apathy
How do we marry these, for it is the gospel of the postmodern, the great desolation
The flowering into desert, vitality so safe, so speculative, so passive, violently inactive
Wed these, weld vigorous franticness into deterministic want of meaning
Out comes plenty talk of love, of inspiration, of human sympathy
Out flows pitiable desperateness of inward cries for more than tortuous sameness
While we still bypass the passer-by
While we address the rest by avoiding their eyes
Their souls
Our souls too

Back we go to what makes us joyful
Not what catches fancy while lights still die out
To rediscover the thing that makes us thick, the who, what and why of living
When I finally stop to say “hi”, to place it a long way before “bye”
When the best I give is more than a glance, a stare, a shallow inquiry
When my eyes fixed on yours is a driving together to bond
My gaze on you is part of a probe into you, to find your concern, to find you
Instead of excusing my neglect of heavenly duty for shyness or tight routine
For we only have a while to love up the imperfect towards perfection
To be disrupter of dark bitter severed state
To help melt stony hearts, giving life in place of wasteful slumber
For none is too difficult a subject to face with Christlike involvement
Whether to relieve, to reform, or to snatch out of the fire.


One thought on “EVERY SINGLE SOUL

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