Sunday Street

She walked down the street with her hands clasp in thine and for one moment it felt like something divine; she was walking out of an old life into a new one, but I couldn’t tell where she was from. The face looked familiar but I could not place the body structure; her emotion was intact but the environment held her back. I didn’t watch to see where she was going but I was convinced that she had paradise waiting within. The afternoon rolled on with cars, buses and trucks singing a merry little song with their mesmerizing engines and their tooting horns, it was like a Mozart Symphony created with a new beat, a new rhythm and a new music sheet and the minstrel waiting on the other side of the street with the dragon waving the flag and the sunlit banner floating on the other side of the river . The Sunday walkers hurried by with a presumptuous message bulging from their eyes, it wasn’t a message of hope it was one of contemplation and Sunday afternoon botheration, and way over the other side, I could hear the drums beating and the marching band was getting ready to send off some body from the town. And the typical Sunday laughter was gone out of the people. The street became awfully quiet and all you could hear was the screaming and shouting resonating from the little church on the base and the machine rolling in the woodwork shop, and over in the gully the bulldozer engine shouts as it move back and forth clearing the debris from the back street, and me in my little corner cleaning up the side street, the task was difficult but I know that the reward will be great. Something was missing from the street and the usual Sunday morning dressing clothes was nowhere to be found, almost all the churches were empty and the choir have migrated out of the community, some have gone abroad and others have stood tall, they weren’t Christian they say, they got a lump sum to play and when the money stop flowing, they stop singing the church song and the few that remain are worshiping in vain, “money done”, they say. As the evening barrels down the hill and the sun find its resting place hope glitters all over my face, I felt a daring sense of pride parachuting from the sky with a profound message saying ,"you will, live and not die" and the clouds fold up into two with a line of people walking two by two and when they reached the horizon they stepped on mountain and the clouds fades away. And from that very moment nature and I become one.