The STreets of Life

I am just a guy walking the streets of life. Looking for a place to call home. It wasn't always like that for me. Things are different now yet it is better I believe. Having touched the face of God blinded me and now I wander these streets. A young man who I passed, said “Hey old man, what happened to you?” “I tried to see his face amid the showers of light and falling grace. “Son” I said, “I sought to know God and the sight of it left me blind” “Now all I can see is the face of God in everything.” I turned around and headed down the street. It wasn't bad to be me, in fact it was so very sweet. In my heart I carried the love that blinded me.

The streets of life are filled with many and diverse beings and creatures of all kinds. Some are nearly heavenly and some are so new they have been barely born. There are some who can't yet imagine the stories of life still untold. And some dear God are like me, seeking to know. I felt the backpack straps dig into my shoulders, perhaps it was time again to clean and discard those thoughts and things that I carried with me. I found a bench and opened the pack. So much was inside, memories and facts. I wondered why I felt these important and began to offer them to those who passed by. It was better to travel light.

I stood up at last and shrugged a bit. The backpack was so light, I didn't feel it a bit. It was curious in ways this journey through life. Its streets and ways held stories and promises, places to rest and dream. For some this journey is a trip fantastic, to others merely a dream. To some the streets of life are where reality is sometimes mean. Travelers come and go, each with ideas, promises to hold, using love as gold. Everything has a price here and everyone has something to sell.

I headed down the street with the light flashing in my eyes. This was a place where travelers meet and find a life. I felt a breeze rustle feelings like leaves on trees. A soft dewy kiss of wonder touched me and left me tingling inside. I wasn't sure where I was going but I knew the streets of life were where I would be, a guy walking to somewhere. I heard the sound of laughter and the cries of glee. There in a park were children playing a game that would shape their dreams. I watched them for a while and remembered the years gone by. “Hey old man” someone said, “are those tears in your eyes?”

Prayers and supplications were being offered in a church nearby. I thought it might be good to get some but the price was to high. I had given away all the things of value on that bench to lighten my load. Perhaps, I thought, it wasn't me that was growing old. I continued on my way through streets and by ways. I crossed several bridges and highways until I found myself on a small path. The streets of life behind me, I sighed and tried to see. The sky was full of color and the land was pretty as could be. I rested for a moment beside a great and ancient tree. I probably feel asleep and probably had a dream.

I am just a guy walking the path back home. I have seen the face of God and I most often travel alone. I am not sure where I am headed but the way seems familiar. I see by the look on your face that we have met before. You are so beautiful and young, I wonder what you see. You reach out and take my hand, and smile. The light breeze rustles your hair and drops of awe begin to fall. It is barely summer and already the moment is warm and starting to thaw. “It isn't far” I heard you say. “come lets play” I dropped my backpack and took off my shoes. We ran into the field and let the richness of being dance round us. After a while we rested from our play. We found an ancient tree and beneath its wisdom we slept, the ever dream.

This is the story I found one day while walking the streets of life. It was near some old tree and the statues there of wood carved to resemble beings of light. I marveled in its discovery and wondered if trees might dream?