Coltrane’s Central Park West played as I walked around Manhattan….

a joyous sound….The Village, Upper Westside, SoHo, Chelsea; tears rolling while strolling…tears clean as a baby’s….coming down a red, wind-blown face, unable to shut them off; let ’em roll….

if poverty teaches us anything….it’s that we’re human…prone to repeat the same actions….the same big mistakes over and over….wanting badly to trust and never able to slide home safely…you’re out….

poverty teaches hunger, humility, pain; nothing easy….a life waiting in lines; food stamp lines, soup lines, confessional lines a mile long for sins the impoverished are forced to commit; theft at Whole Foods….always absolved….

and grace is attained….delivering me to the other side…hold out for grace….just hold out for grace….she will save you everytime…..