The Emerald City

Reflected in three mirrors

my sight

looking forward,

backward,

and to the side,

but mostly looking in.

The train speeds through the tunnel

as indistinguishable

black walls scream by.

Anonymous faces smile

in disconnected awareness.

There is comfort in this:

strangers going about their life,

taking a moment to acknowledge a passerby.

Some days,

the sun shines.

Sometimes,

even after the storm.

These days,

there is a release of a collective sigh

and an exaltation lays over the city

like the fog.

On days like this,

the Emerald City glistens and,

if you know how,

you can walk the yellow brick road.

Skipping with a spiritual gaiety

until you

take on the glistening radiance

until you

hold the emerald in your heart

until the gold pours

from your hands, your feet, your smile.

Until the city opens to you

gates swinging wide

as you enter on a horse

of many different colors streaming behind you

enraptured.

 

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