Prose poetry prompt
Earth Angel’s Existence
Everyday people showing us the way
Coming out of the theater showing Beast of the Southern Wild, with fresh new eyes — witnessing the world’s existence as it is, was, or maybe. The littles going on about the powerful message just witnessed when a stranger approached, “Hey, you got any money to spare?”
Kids not having a coin to cash in at the local five and dime looked to me for help in this awkward moment of happenstance. “Do you have any money to spare, dad?” Good thing the old me was not present; forget me not walking on by.
Just having gone through a life-transforming dismemberment of self-being, rebuilding of the blocks and neurotransmitters, was I being tested before innocent eyes? Uncertain where these sudden thoughts, flooding in like a cleansing river’s flow, I do indeed have a bit to spare.
Eye’s locking, words engaging stories of old and present circumstances, what is the money for I asked. Knowing now, what I didn’t then, I would not have asked the question, but I did in this case. “I am hungry.” When did you last eat? “Yesterday” is all I heard and forfeited twenty bucks, for it was all I had.
Ecstatic at the fortunate encounter, the gentleman gladly blessed us in a thousand differing ways. We passed on, standing curbside, waiting to cross — with a glance back to a vanishing being — was he even there? “Where did he go?” questioned the little ones. Uncertain, maybe the liquor store down the block, nay it’s too far and would have seen him beeline for the booze. It doesn’t matter, is what spilled from my lips. We had the cash and much to offer another in need.
“Was he an angel?” Shocked by this silly question, maybe, change of heart with what took place. To this day, we will never know who this person was. An angelic being, homeless stranger, and matters not for the lesson loud and clear, what was old no longer truth be told. If there is a hand in need, share what we can — in this case, it was all we had.
Man in need of an ear, money to boot, sharing a moment is what we could. Face lit up, brighter than a Christmas tree in July, gratitude and tears flowing from this divine soul. Too few understanding the needs of another, get a job retorted in many, humbled by the presence, interjecting with the three.
Too quick to judge are numerous and proud, turning a blind eye on a fellow human down their luck. My situation is not theirs, theirs unlike mine, same global footing upon this sacred ground. Forgotten way, lost in the crowd, given up for this moment in time. The bound or chosen reality of theirs, not measured by standardized testing, is frowned upon and no longer accepted.
Forgive me for once being, tormenting self-inflicting battlefield of the mind’s transcending thoughts transgression. Accept me for who I am, the same hand reaching out for you.
I am pretty certain J.D. Harms was looking for something different, maybe not, in any case this is what popped in my field of view as soon as I read the prompt. Recalling this day like it was yesterday, I now see the homeless in new light and offer a hand whenever I can.
Some might judge me, I do not care. For a brother/ sister in need, one day that could be me. Uncertain of anything these days but more understanding of other’s going through their own issues, smaller or greater than my own.
Thank you for this prompt, hope it makes the grade.
You must be logged in to post a comment.