City Search*

I'm not ready for this
It's not like other times
It's too crowded
Too busy
Too surrounded by concrete and steel

I should talk to him
Or should I?
Five seconds pass
And the debate is settled for me

There's a short fight
I pray
But just on my own
I know I should do more
And then the time's up

I'm challenged again
And again
I fail again
And again
The hunched-over old man doesn't notice
That I almost asked to pray for him
The younger man in rags
Doesn't know the urging and resisting
That he inspires

I pass them by in the dozens
And rack myself with guilt over each one
But I still do nothing

Three Mexican men
We stop for them
I kneel down to talk with one of them

I should have done more
But it is unspeakable blasphemy
To say that one conversation wasn't worth the whole trip
That one prayer for them was not a cause to rejoice