Waiting For The Wind To Pick up

Let today be sufficient for itself is what I was told.
So, okay.
I will let that happen and let today be different from the day before

There is an amazing way the city moves. I swear.
The City moves in different phases and then of course, the fashions sway from one extreme to another. And all this depends upon the time of day or your location, of course. 
I was always told New York City is the melting pot, or at least I was told this long ago when I was young.

I was told this before the words diversity, equity, and inclusion became the buzzwords that they are today.
I can agree that my City has different places with different vibes and to me, the vibrations and the neighborhoods all have a different significance to me.
All of them own different stations in my heart. And so do you, by the way.

Nevertheless, there are all kinds of people and different versions of beauty here. There is every culture and all kinds of people who come in all shapes and sizes. 

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Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

Nighttime and all is right with the world.
I am dialed in and smooth at the moment, or even better,
I am like the softness of good music
smooth as ever beneath a starlight sky
in the cobblestone section of our
Downtown, New York City streets

The moon is on the rise.
The warmer winds are calm and the stars,
Good-God,
the stars are better than the sparkles
from the bursting rockets on the 4th of July.

I swear . . .

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Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

It was advised to me that I be aware of my company.
I was also advised to be mindful of who I listen to.
Else, I might listen to a fool
or that I might be so foolish to listen to the advice
from someone who I’d never turn to.

I was told that my story belongs to me
and that by sharing my story,
I am offering myself to those outside of my control
because of course, intention and interpretation
are seldom the same things.

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Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

The breeze is soft at the moment
and the previous rain made it easy
for the sunrise to take place
without the usual humidity
which has been with us
for the last few days.

The heat is more like an analogy
or at least to me,
I use the heat as a symbol or more
I use this as a metaphor that represents
the tension between us,
thick, like a blanket
when the humidity is too much
and intense enough to be cut with a knife
and sliced like the fat from a calf
at the slaughterhouse.

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Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

It is amazing to me
how we seem to eclipse through time,
half in shadows and half in the sunlight
of something much bigger than our everyday life.

There is more to this,
you know?

There is more to us than meets the eye
just like a magic trick because
like the great magician says
sometimes, the hand is quicker than the eye
and so, oftentimes
life is quicker than all of us.

Yet we forget to remember tomorrow
or the fact that our plethora of time together
is limited to a precious few

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