mojodragon

I tried not to look, that day. I was driving down the road, lost in my troubles, when I saw a man on the side of the road. I’m too busy to stop and help. The light turned red, and I had to stop. A light drizzle started, and his sign started getting wet. This didn’t seem to phase him, though, he held onto it like it was his most precious possession. Don’t read it, it’s probably a lie anyway. I wasn’t supposed to be looking, but I found that I couldn’t help myself. His sign, it had the same effect as an accident on the freeway. I didn’t want to look. No, that’s not right, I didn’t want him to SEE me looking. Inevitably, though, I read the sign.

It didn’t say what I had expected. Some part of me expected a request for handouts, or a “destination or bust”. It might even be a doomsday prophecy, I had thought. But it held none of these things. Rather, it was a sign of hope that I beheld that day. “Will write verse for free.”

For free? This man wasn’t asking for work, or money, or a ride? All he was asking, it seemed, was to be heard. I unlocked my door, and rolled down the window. Motioning him over, I offered him a dry place to sit. He got into my car, and thanked me for my kindness. Of course, I asked him about his sign.

Everyone can be a poet, he said. That part is easy. Life creates poetry in every moment. The hard part is noticing, and slowing down long enough to hear it. Be the audience.

And with that, he spoke words that drilled into my heart, and into my life. Words of such power and beauty, that they brought tears to my eyes. Too soon, the moment was over, and he got out of the car. I drove onto my destination a new man, glad I had looked that day.

amonkie

Really poignant story, mojodragon - and yet so true...

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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna