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Linda Clark-Borre's avatar

About 20 years ago I met a well-dressed older man sitting alone on a bench at a mall on Michigan Ave. in Chicago. I sat next to him and we began discussing life, triggered by some light comment or other. Within moments, I felt myself to be in the presence of wisdom. I joked that I felt in the presence of God. He chuckled and replied he’d only “been around.” To this day I remember his presence and how this stranger made me feel, both comforted and very much alive.

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Holly's avatar

God is in all of us !!

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Paolo Peralta's avatar

Yoooo so true!!!! We are Gods. 🌟

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KL's avatar

I knew Albert. Once he gave me some poems he wrote. I was working at a tiny grocery in Austin way back when. I've lost the poems but I have them in my heart. This one made me cry.

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Laven Sparwo's avatar

I am from Austin…loved reading this. If Austin is the place for you, you’ll certainly find your heart. You’ll have to go inside to find the Divine.

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Holly's avatar

Yes! Wherever you are you might have to go inside your heart to find the Divine before you can recognize it in your brother or sister. But it’s there. Show them the Christ in you and relate to the Christ in them!

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Michael D. Warden's avatar

I grew up in Austin. The place is in my bones, not as much as it is now, but as it was before all the high rises came. This poem captures the essence of what that experience was like more beautifully than anything else I've ever read.

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Bliss Grey's avatar

we need more sweetness like in this our world. Thank you

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Carrie Skinner's avatar

Made me smile and made me wonder. I like how god bummed a cigarette and apparently his lighter as well. Poems that ask the question 'who or what is god and how would it be to meet him/her in the flesh' just fascinate me!

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Bliss Grey's avatar

It just occurred to me, if Substack ever published a book of poetry, and people could choose which poems were in the book they bought, "I dreamed I lived in Austin" would be one of them.

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Irene Lewis's avatar

I loved this. Reminded me of how I tried to give a ham sandwich to a homeless person outside the convenience store on 6th and they yelled at me to give them cigarettes. Love how god stole the lighter too.

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Christian Lea's avatar

So I read this again, and again, and again… It occurred to me that it was not God he met. It was Death. The People with missing body parts were dead already and new the path he was on. Finally, at the edge of town in darkness under a ‘cold’ moon. He is presented with the end of his life. Cigarettes are a sign of death in many dreams. And death representing lack will take everything when you die… the Quarter (money), Cigarettes (being the means one uses to Kill oneself) and finally, the lighter (the Light that signifies Life). All things of the world. It was with a ‘bony hand’ that assured him the only thing Death cannot take away is Love. the caveat here is that he is destined to repeat the dream (as represented by him telling it again) until we find the only thing worth living for is Love.

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sotoportego's avatar

The one thing that never dies is love. Either take on this poem and it ends and ends up exactly there. Take care all, ot will be okay in the end, but not just yet...

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Mohika Mudgal's avatar

Gave me the chills this one. It's ghostly and warm and so lovely to experience 💓

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Ethan Summers's avatar

The poem is challenging and made me think.

Fifty-four is a good time to find love. Regardless of how long would one wobble around receiving ham sandwiches, it worth the waiting.

What puzzles me is how would one feed a hungry heart when the heart has callouses all over, holes and missing chunks? I imagine that such a heart would require a lot of love to fill itself, for a lot of it would be waisted through the holes. Should one ask for love or better yet, for a younger heart which could temper its hunger a lot faster? ☺️ But perhaps I’m just drivelling now...

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Richard Schall's avatar

Ya but then you woke up and found out you where surrounded by Texas.

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Sarah's avatar

Ahhhhhhh so good!!!⚡️⚡️⚡️

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Dusty Hope's avatar

I’d already died, I told them,

chewing mightily and wishing I

had some water.

I used to this. I started callling it the

I am already dead routine.

tanks for this.

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Larry Jaffe's avatar

Albert rocks the word.

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Bliss Grey's avatar

It just occurred to me, if Substack ever published a book of poetry, and people could choose which poems were in the book they bought, "I dreamed I lived in Austin" would be one of them.

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