The Brave Pedestrian

August 4, 2006: “Yaari hai imaan  Mera yaar meri zindagi…” “My love-friendship is my truth, My lover-friend is my entire life…” At 4 am, I am made awake by this somehow unquiet thought which wants to disturb me, and will not let me sleep. Lyrics have many meanings, and I find that a different lyric, with a distinctive meaning, plays in my head each day, depending on my mood, depending on who I am that day. (Because, my friends, I’m becoming increasingly aware that I awaken as a different person each day.) Today, this morning, this moment, I find myself with the thought that we are, all of us, like scorpions. Tender pulp inside, tough shell outside, and a venomous, lightning-swift stinger. The Pulp Inside We are tender, needy pulp inside, aching with the NEED to make contact with the pulp of others, to crush our pulp together, and see and hear and feel the pulp melt into one. To have sex, to make love, to understand, to be understood, to ...

Morning walk. A big white stray I’ve never met before Abruptly puts his paws on my chest. No wagging tail, No lolling tongue, No panting, No doggy grin, No wet-nosed kisses. Strange grey eyes Gaze into mine. “We know each other,” they say. Standing there, I stroke that big head for a minute, Acknowledging a deep bond. I never see him again And I don’t need to. But I understand that No matter where I go, No matter who I am, My friends and I Shall Always Find each other. Thank you, Old friend, For reminding me So beautifully. ________________________________ I first wrote this in January 2007. Is it a poem? You decide. This is an accurate account of an incident that actually happened to me on a morning walk, and the thoughts that flashed through my head then.