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| (This is a picture I took of U Hall which sorta sets the mood to my poem.) |
With Eyes To See
By Melody Beerbower, September 8, 2015
Raindrops fall
from a charcoal sky,
Liquid spheres of
sorrow
Turning the world
to grey.
They dampen the
heads below them
Bent close to
examine the pavement
With barren eyes.
Crooked cracks disfiguring
the sidewalks
Traveled by too
many feet
Capture the rain
in miniature rivers
And drain it onto
the blacktop.
Men and woman hurry
along
Passing each other
like dignified trains
Gliding by,
Each with a
separate track.
In the swirling
mud at their feet
A sparrow lies
Struggling in a tangle
of filthy string.
The shoes of
earthy brown tread close
But never once do
crush it.
And never once do
the downcast eyes
Have sight to see
Its plight.
A man approaches,
with head bent low
And eyes
half-closed against the wind,
Clutching a paper cup
of coffee.
His heavy boots
splash through the mud,
One tan shoe lace
trailing behind
As though it lacks
the strength
To keep the shoe
securely fastened.
As he stretches his
foot out in perfect stride,
Right over the place
the sparrow lays struggling,
A stranger bumps
his shoulder
Pushing him
stumbling
Backward and
knocking the coffee from his hand.
The dark liquid
mingles with the rain,
No different from
the mud bellow.
As he bends to
retrieve his cup,
His wayward gaze
Is pierced the sparrow’s
eyes.
Trickling in their
dark depth,
The yearning for
life and freedom grows.
The sparrow lays
still
In the man’s
work-worn hands.
As carefully he
peels away the string.
People pass on
either side
Like water around
a sturdy rock in a swiftly flowing stream.
Finally, the
string falls away,
And curls up in
the mud at his feet,
Next to the
languid shoelace.
With one soft
stroke to the Sparrow’s head
And one to the
wing now free,
And one last look
into its eyes
He lifts his hand,
palm outstretched,
And releases the sparrow
into the grey.
The man watches
its flight toward the hazy sun,
As the dark screen
rolls away.
He squints his
eyes
As it is swallowed
up
In the
newly-discovered brightness.
Someone stumbles
against the man
As he stands with
his gaze in the sky.
He catches their
arm and points aloft
And says in
awakening awe, “Look, man. See.”
The next man turns
his face briefly to the sky,
But the sight
holds him there.
He nudges another
beside him and points,
And so it
continues and on down the line
Until along the
street people are stopping
To gaze upward,
For a beautiful
rainbow has replaced the rain.
Even though the
rainbow slowly begins to fade,
The people are still
talking to one another.
They resume their
walk,
But their eyes are
no longer on the ground below,
But wander about
in the warmth of the sun
And all because
one man rescued a sparrow
And turned his
broken gaze above.
