He sat and spoke, watching one and all;
the wanton, worried, hopeless and tired,
come and go.
His words and wisdom undone.
Fatigued he became, of telling of what is to come
and what must and needed to be done.
He opined and reflected.
Why did, and how could,
the questers be gifted the light of insight:
And then so boldly;
To see and turn a blind eye.
To feel only the empty numbness of nothing.
To sense innately the loud strong gut-felt alarm
“oh something’s wrong”, and then a gasp, a pause, a serious stare,
deleted instantaneously with no memory or reaction there.
No reaction there. Just nonchalance.
Careless enough to let it go
because time money and compassion
has no green light to jump into that place.
“It ain’t mine.”
I am my own person, ever so divine.”
“Enough, enough,” the Oracle said.
The decision was made and sealed within his soul,
not to sit, share or import words anymore.
The new shingle read:
The Stoop, a working Oracle.
ONLY DOERS ALLOWED.
And so it is now;
The Stoop at the door
Is quiet and strong.
A visionary as brilliant as a moonlit star,
Shining hope, faith and radiating pathways
for all human life
With respect, dignity and rightful survival
in perpetuity
for all members of the human race.
The Stoop is the oracle:
Who foresaw, foretold and stood tall,
Taking action to help all of us shelter
and save our goodness and souls.
Housing, shelter and embracing warm homes
with no one human left to expire
without basic human rights.
And in the end
homeless Knots will be no more,
if the Oracle Stoop has his way.
Henceforth, the Stoop is the Oracle
Take heart and heed what he has to say.
Happy Birthday Stoops!!!!!
Keep stranding tall.
