Mennonites
(or one of those gifts of life)
Friday
June 2, 2006
5:00 pm

Rain,
buckets of rain,
floods of rain.
Leaving work 9 to 5
greeted by deluge,
wait for an interlude
get to the station
before you get drenched.

Pass through toll,
not though Go®
nor collect $200oo,
No. 1 train waiting on platform
Franklin street station
in New York City.

Minutes pass,
train still on platform...
Whazzup?
Floods,
problem for the trains.

Finally,
"Next stop Chambers street.
Stand clear
of the closing doors, please."

Chambers street station.
Again await the train to leave.
"ATTENTION PASSENGERS:
U This fa h ib j k cl
\ gdk ehi fgj
sdueto flaznnrng,
top tomato,
Hot potato.
I REPEAT: ..."

If English is not
your ALL total language,
good luck.
It's difficult to understand
what comes out of the train's speakers
even when totally fluent
in the language.

Local 1 going back uptown?
OPTION # 1:
take the No. 2 or 3
to Wall Street and walk to ferry.
OPTION # 2:
walk to ferry from here...
Hmmm... walk or walk.

First, let poor confused souls
know that if they stay where they are
still sitting on stranded returned train,
they are bound uptown where they don't want to go.
Then wait for the overstuffed No. 2 or 3
and decide if you want to be mushed inside the train.
It arrives, everyone pushes to get on.
Traveling with the other sardines...
Naah. Exit the station.
½ hour walk'll get you to the ferry,

Staten Island where I belong for the moment.

Little drizzle but walkable
south on Church street,
one block before
the World Trade Center
site of confusion and pain.

Little park, xmass red ball fountain,
good place to jam.
Play the recorder
to you heart's content.
Star Spangled Banner,
America the Beautiful,
and a lulu bye seem appropriate...

A woman stands observing the sculpture-fountain
not knowing that she has become part
of the sculpture... at least for me.
I tell her what she has become
of course, she doesn't understand
as most of us to a certain degree
that art, any art,
as any of the Universes'
is not just there,
it's part of us
as we are of them
we interact and exchange
we change, want it or not
we become part of the sculpture of life
'cause we're not dead.
Move on.

Lower Manhattan,
scarred, amputated
World Vrade CenUer site
dreary like the afternoon
sad wet looking bottomless
well of dreams.
Representing all that is
good and bad
in the world.

Gawkers from all over the world
to see the site
where it all started
where the sword
of mighty Allah stroke
causing so many
hundreds of thousands
of deads
ceasing to exist,
changing, leaving,
as is destined to all things.

This carnage
should have never happened
or maybe it should ...
it does, it did.
Gawkers should be looking East
at the ripples of Evil released.

How dare anyone attempt
against the life of another
fellow human being.
How dare anyone imagine
he has powers to control others.
Still it happens at every moment
on all levels of financial-based societies.
To the point of genocide
maybe the obliteration
of frail human-kind.
It's all a game of the mind.

Temporary New Jersey
PATH train station.
Haven't been there since before 9-11-01
No reason to enter.
Keep on going to the ferry.

Suddenly, angelical voices
wafting from down below.
What?
Gotta go see.
Down the stairs
no escalator yet.

Perfectly balanced
choir of female and male voices
singing praises to the Lord.
The combination of voices,
the cheerful dedication,
concentration for a heavenly sound.

What flavor I wonder,
seeing these people dressed
in the manner of Amish.
I'll find out with those ladies
seemingly selling CDs over there,
but not yet,
later when I've had my fill
of their beautiful songs...

"Hi, this is a beautiful sound,
What group are you?
Do you have CDs for sale?"
--"We are Mennonites,
and sorry, we had some CDs
but gave them all at the beginning."

Well,
I say that the best photos
I've ever taken
are in my mind.
Either out of batteries,
out of film, or without the camera.
The best sounds are
in my head.
Back to listening to their singing
all the while thinking
of the machinations of fate
that brought us here
this dreary afternoon
that has suddenly brightened up
for me,
then continue to the ferry.

After they were done with their song,
I needed to tell them
that they impacted my life,
so ask the conductor
if I may address the group.
"You have been blessed with beautiful voices
and a beautiful group and faith.
I can't tell you how blessed I feel
to have met you today. I thank you."

"Would you like us to sing you a song?"
says the conductor of the group
--(a song for me? A gift!!)
"Sure, thank you."
"What song would you like?"
"Anyone, they're all so beautiful."
"How about 'Amazing Grace'?"
"That's fine."

I stand there transfixed,
eyes brimming with tears,
they meet my gaze
and shyly look away,
but give me the whole
of Amazing Grace.

This time the message is
so clear and precise.
I once was so lost
but now I stay found,
I used to be blind
but now I can see!!
Maybe show you
so you can see me,
show me.

I leave with more blessings
and a new understanding
of our need to believe.

I could have played
the recorder along with them,
maybe it was better this way...
I'll play for you in a while.

Atrium of a bank
on Water street
a spotlight just for me.
Amazing Grace for you,
my friends.
As I find a bench to sit
while the rainburst passes,
bells nearby play
The Star Spangled Banner
in tone with my recorder!
I play along and then conclude
with America the Beautiful.

Beautiful Country,
beautiful Planet,
but we have a tendency
of raping Mother Nature
at every chance we get.
Always in the name of profit
and the bottom line.
We have to realize
before it's too late
that accumulation and power
are games of the mind,
and in the end are nothing.
We all end up moving on
taking what we brought
in our beginning.

Time to take the ferry
and start a new adventure.

©Rob
July 17, 2006