The Night Journey Home
By Beverly Greene
NOTE: This poem is protected by international copyright laws and may NOT be reproduced in any form without Beverly Greene's expressed and written consent.
I walked in the covering darkness,
watching the lines of sidewalk crawl past.
I listened to the sounds of the street,
taking on a life of their own,
like some raging monster inside of us
forcing its way out when we lay
our heads down at night to sleep.
In my mind's eye I could see the dreams
of those safely in their beds
scavaging through the garbage left behind
by the day's vendors of cheap thrills
for the remnants of any kind of hope.
I hear the screams of the drug needles
begging to be used in escape,
promising the sought after peace.
I read the still drying writing on the wall,
the spray paint mark of some aspiring artist
proclaiming an end to this eternal search.
I listen to the musicians playing their songs
for food, or fun, or fan fare, or just money
and wonder what it is that they think of
when the tear sparkles in their eyes,
puncuating the end of another sad song.
I hear garbage cans rattle from a child's hands,
begging without voice for relief of the hunger
they were born with in their soul.
I hear the bar crowd masquerading as someone else,
looking for something they don't have at home,
never thinking that until they are honest
to themselves about who they are, they never will.
I watch the neon signs threating to give it up,
quit the night life of shinning, warning, telling
and wonder why their flickers sound like cries.
I watch the passing cracks in the sidewalk again,
counting the steps, knowing how many I need
to get to where I'm going, just where I want to be.
Finally the green person lights up giving me the go
to finish my journey through the harrowing night.
I keep on silently counting steps with heartbeats
as I watch the end of my journey coming near.
And just as I finally reach the door,
the night pauses in respect and admiration,
for those who have the love they all seek.
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� 2001 Beverly Greene owns all rights to this original poem.
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