upon seeing glen hansard busking in soho

shocks of grey and red hair
and a passion of strumming
and screaming to brand new
worship songs found me
faint and short of breath
as i leaned against a wall
in a shadowed alley
called jersey street.

i had wandered all day
in the heat
south of the village
never stopping...
since stopping
was always at a cost
that i didn't have
and i wondered how far
i could go
how long could i travel
in circles of people-watching,
riding on zero and empty...

and then suddenly
in a tiny subtle way
fate at last
kissed me
as i saw cameras pointed
at a "no way it can't be him"
once in a lifetime moment
that i was able to stand still for

i watched him reach higher
than i thought i could go
ever again. as i
died at last
and remained
gone
in peace
walking the streets
with new steps
silent
but changed
and at last innocent
one more time