The City of Angels

I sit on this highway and wonder about my way. The way. Which way. I feel I know the road to go. Forward. Come to the sun, the lost one from long ago. The one I used to know.

I felt I never lost it. I feel I’m never lost. Only wandering in this place, finding new places that need blessings. That cry for grace ~ have fallen from her. I wonder why. But it’s so easy to miss the target, fall from step, look ahead and yet forget.

I think I know the direction I am walking in. But it takes me around the bend. The round-a-bout way from whence I came. I begin again another way.

There is a road that goes into a circle. I know that if I keep going round I will be found. I make the blessings along my way. Extend myself. Ask Grace for grace, to come this way. There are people everywhere. I think I have some cares/had some cares. They’ve disappeared when I saw these others here. Too calm and carrying on, amongst the smog.

I love you I say to them. Silently. You are just like me. We’re the same, do you see? But I keep my gaze straight ahead instead and look to the heavens while watching my step. Casually, I go through all the ones on the city streets, the heat, the beaten path, I find my way through. I don’t look like you. I don’t think like you. But I love you just the same, as different. You are the one. One of the ones. Come. Let’s find your way, you find your way. Be grand on Grand Avenue. Find your angel in Los Angeles. The city has many here for you to see. Open your eyes. Shed your disguise as a haphazard street-wise one.

I came to the city you are in to find the last of the great gurus. The avatar is in your backyard. He wants for you. You are the one, like me, who can be free.

Be the hurried one who finds the time to see the Great One. He finds you here, on the street. I see him next to you, next to me, walking, home with you.

Why don’t I give you my heart? It’s yours, by the way, anyways. We beat as one, you and I, Father, Son and the Holy one, who lends us out for a while. I find my way home. It may be a short while later or a long journey of forsaken memories, but no matter, I remember me. I remember you. Who you were. Who you are. The casual guy pushing a cart of garbage bags to the shoot. The one who used to cast arrows from his bow to snag the stars that were below us both, beneath us all. Until our fall. I find you here on the city streets of Los Angeles.

You weren’t looking for an angel. You weren’t putting together regrets. Not just yet. I learned from you. Not from meeting, or conversing, but from looking at you deeply, without catching your gaze, in case you were crazed. Glazed over. Wanting something from that opportunity of me. I left you there, as we passed. I stepped aside, so you could pass with your cart and your load, bags bulging from each side. From your eyes. You didn’t try to hide. You were too obvious. But gentle, still, you smiled at me and said, “Sorry.” Holy glory days of time gone by. I looked at you, as a passerby, and smiled in return. I’m sorry, too, I thought. That you forgot. But you will remember, too. The one who waits for you till you come undone from this earthly fun and shed your skin for the royal robe you wore so long ago, that still hangs for you. In Heaven’s closet.

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