On A City Block

We live wherever we can... Once I saw an older man, fiftyish, with his gray hair pulled back into a ponytail and a shaggy beard which bounced when he moved. Eyes closed, he was dancing wildly in front of a dilapidated apartment building. 'Hey man, are you dancing for rain? ' I cried out. Abruptly, he stopped. Then his eyes flashing wide open, his whole face smiling, he replied, 'No man, I'm dancing for joy! If I stop, my hopes will crash... Come on, help me.' And so I did. I helped a guy who needed his hopes. We danced dervish dances in tight circles, we danced Zorba dances with linked arms, going back and forth across his narrow patch of grass. We did free form rock dancing and what he called JAZZ ORPHEUS DANCING. Forty minutes, give or take, we danced in tandem to keep hope green and fresh and ever-lasting. Passers-by were puzzled but not curious. A few dropped coins in his blue cap, and smiled but said not a word. And when he wasn't looking at me, spinning about, almost collapsing, I stuffed two fifty dollar bills in his ragged blue cap. I tried to leave without notice. But he called after me in a voice rough with anger and belief, 'Someday I will live in plush digs just around the corner from Paradise Gardens. Come and visit me at the end of your tether, and I will give you a slice of Heaven you can keep forever.' I smiled and waved, but he was already lost to me, dancing wildly on his narrow patch of green.