Subway Spirituality

On the East Side subway (6 train) today, a frisky elderly black man caught my eye.  At first glance, he looked like quite a character. Maybe even homeless, with his hoodie and unkempt graying beard.  On closer inspection, there was nothing un-clean in his attire, and I quickly ruled out homelessness when I noticed that he had rings on every single finger of both hands. Wide bold designs, all in silver, a few with gemstones.  His I-pod speakers were not jacked up offensively loud, but it was clear he was grooving to some favorite tunes.  I got a kick out of his energy and chastised myself internally for assuming he might have been homeless or worse yet – trouble.  He began to sing along, aloud, for the listening pleasure of his co-riders.  “God is my friend” was the recurring refrain.  He even danced a little in his seat. I couldn’t make out all the words but “God is my friend” came through quite distinctly and was repeated over and over.  I smiled at his idiosyncrasies and found my toe tapping along to his religious refrain. Others were aggravated at his ebullient nature; some smiled and acknowledged a secret kinship with him in his friendship with God.  For me, a moment of gratitude swept over me as I realized in that moment what a friend I had in God, indeed!  So many rich and wonderful blessings to be grateful for in this dynamic and thought-provoking life.

As I arrived at my stop, I headed through the turn style and looked up to read

 “This is your station. We want to hear from you.”

This struck me as incredibly humorous; I paused to shake my head and chuckle at the onslaught of meaning this phrase inspired.  Was God telling me that He wanted to hear from me?  Or from the quirky old black man on the train?  Or was this a message to remind me to be an open station and welcome the messages coming in from the likes of my fellow subterranean travelers?  Where is this station of mine and who is the listener?  I felt buoyed by the simple yet complex idea that God, as my friend, might want to hear from me. Having had some insecurities about starting a blog and putting my poetic inspirations into the world, was this a subtle nod of encouragement that would uplift me enough to go home and write another blog entry?  Or was my internal station dialing up the right frequency for these few minutes to actually hear and behold another human being’s presence, in a subway car full of self-involved, sheltered people who desire to be anything but present in this car full of strangers?  I felt, at once, as if I had spoken and been spoken to.  Somehow in the mystery of the moment, and in the acknowledgement of that man’s truthful tune, I felt inspired and I began to step more firmly on these city streets, just begging the earth to feel me and my presence here.

As usual the arrow of inspiration struck straight into my core and gently reminded me of some words I had written long before…

Oasis      (a miniature Ode to O'Keefe)

I'm shifting,

like sand

molting, unfolding

transforming

with the Wisdom of the Desert.

I see in sun spots

before me

a New Door

a Voice

waiting to come out

an aesthetic vocabulary

liquid Gold

deep

beneath my skin

an Alchemy

from an unforeseen Divinity

calling me to BIG

a place I've never been;

…

(And later, the poem continues…)

I shed my muddy memories

growing Giant-sized

sprouting essential meaning

as the Voice of the Sky

puts Thunder

in my mouth.

And for a MOMENT

I forget

to be

quiet...

Oh

what JOY!

“This is your station. We want to hear from you.”   

©2011 DOS

The excerpts of all of the poems presented in this blog are copyright protected, as each and every poem has been copyrighted.   For a complete copy of any poem, feel free to email your request to: duvallosteennyc@gmail.com.