My name is Prophet but they call me, ‘Hey, you!’ I am a penniless drifter shod poorly. I am diseased & despised. I sing for a seat near the
hall down the path to the shed used by swine. I’m gleeful with joy for any place to dine. Crafty by circumstance, I am blessed with a spark
of divine mind. I trade hope for shelter. I barter truth for a comfortable lie. I feel privileged, indeed, honored to share my most cherished
possession with whatever lurking beast or saint there may come a knocking on the door of my rice paper heart.

The possession I speak of is my inner light, my love; the most powerful force in the universe. More often than not I possess neither food
for shelter yet light never lets me down. My huckster mind tries to convince me otherwise, but I say, “Shyster thoughts be damned! Belief
does not make an invidious fantasy real. "

Those evenings I am cold, angry, lonely, rejected & filled with remorse for coming to this place in the first place, are the very same
evenings I forget to be grateful. On these occasions, nights crawl painfully slow to that trickster I call dawn. What I lack in essentials I
make up in wisdom. Vagabond wisdom is priceless so I give it away for free. I must. Like my father before me, I stand hunchbacked, just as
his father before him. My deformed stoop is the result of an incalculable weight I carry upon my shoulders.

My mother was born & raised in New York City’s West Side shanty town; Hell’s Kitchen. My father was orphaned at the age of two under
crushing dank Mississippi Delta poverty which knows no equal. Opposites do attract. Cosmic humor loves tragedy. Rarely does it make
one laugh. My mother and father did the best they knew how to overcome their fate of birth with a passionate belief in the power of love.
Belief" and "knowing" are two different things. My parents eventually found a peaceful solace but in the arms of different lovers; my
father, in the arms of another woman, my mother, in the love for her children. They taught me how to dig deep to survive, with good
fortune on my side, I discovered I love getting my face dirty.

I wonder if being born deformed and senseless is easier to bear than this weight, this soul-numbing weight? I fear the worst should I
stumble or fall. I fear for the innocents striding between land & the cobalt blue seas. When I fear it is because I've abandoned gratitude.
ometimes my unbridled dejection paralyzes my connection to God. It is easiest then to dismiss divine light as a dreamer’s hallucinations
un amok. And I do. Yes, I do. I dismiss like a diva.

09/13/2019

Posted on 09/13/2019
Copyright © 2025 Scott Utley