He called himself
a Potential Dancer,
but his footstep
was not light.
He spoke of "vigilance",
was always on the alert
for attack.
How could a vigilant
potential dancer
and a stardreamer
find any connection?
Everyone is such
a complicated mixture
of experience,
conditioning,
and heartbreak,
each one
so cautious,
so defended.
How to step
outside the box,
yet be careful not to step
so far outside
you're swinging
from the chandelier?
From below,
I observed him
swinging.
The chasm between
our financial realities
would have had
to be bridged
by a kamikaze
bungee jump
I am too old
and far too
un-limber
to attempt.
We spoke of
the path,
of wellness,
of walking the talk.
Yet in the next breath
he attacked the
disenfranchised
with judgment
and venom.
Yes, he was just
another wounded
warrior
on the path,
transforming his
wound
into a shield
so he will
never again
be undefended.
Nor will I,
antenna attuned
to detect red flags
with the swiftness
of a gazelle,
and as fleetly gone.
My tolerance,
I think,
for judgment
and aggression
and vitriol
is nil.
I cast my vote
for humility
-for humanity-
when speaking of
the disenfranchised,
the addicted,
the ill, the broken,
the impoverished,
the alone and
the forgotten.
We pass
like two frigates
in the channel:
a nod,
a wave,
and continue
to our various
destinations.
