Absorbing The Ink...

~ Absorbing the Ink~

Under the Ink… Newsprint Lives

For some of us, the news becomes a way of life… not so much for

the news and stories held within its pages, but rather a blanket wrapped

around us, and as padding laid over the hard ground, as we try to stave

off the chilly night air that descends like a waterfall for those of us facing

life on the streets-- living, breathing and feeling every nuance of Mother Nature.

Absorbing the news, in the deepest sense. Substituting the warmth produced

by trees in place of the human connections were so readily deprived of.

And in the process, learning more about the world around us, as well as

around the world. Reading the news that covers our lives, while it darkens

our skin and the sheets provide cover from the elements...

until it gets really wet and the papers stick to us and then disintegrates

all over us, drying to you like it had been adhered with by glue.

Sometimes hiding things wrapped in newspaper as to give the

impression we carry nothing of value, or allow for a brief time

to store something where no one will think twice about it.

People see trash everywhere, most don't bother to clear it up,

but pass the buck to others... having someone else clean their messes.

And for those of us on the streets sometimes rely on this as a means

to keeps things safe from being taken or thrown away.

People are often amazed that we are well versed in many topics and

enjoy the stimulation that communication brings… welcoming the

chance to connect with someone, however briefly that may be.

More often than not, we are regarded through the lens of

indifference, hate and ugliness from all directions. So much so,

that this is what overshadows love….

You feel as though huge parts inside you begin to

corrode and disintegrate from the harsh words and

remarks so cruelly tossed our way…

Cardboard Lives….

You'll find us everywhere, but we seem to become invisible to others

unless it is just to direct their brutality to... under bridges, on park

benches, in doorways... trying to just be without being.

Our belongings, our very existence.... seen as nothing more than debris

that needs to be cleared away. People believing that we could not possibly

have anything that means something, nothing with heart value... after all, 
your life is disposable, so nothing you carry with you should have 
any meaning, perhaps this is why we are stripped of the very 
threads holding our lives together, as they try to destroy those 
very threads of our lives. It means nothing to them to

strip us so bare of the barest essentials.... it only matters 
if you have that luxurious roof over your head.

Finding shelter, food, restroom facilities, clothing.. the barest, most basic

essentials a person needs becomes an ever-increasing challenge to 

find (and use) when you are forced out on the streets. Breathing, 

warm water, hot fresh meals are things most of us take for granted, 

until those very things are taken from you and then they become 

out of reach, but deeply sought after, luxuries. Your existence 

dismissed as you find your presence is no longer accepted, 

much less welcome in society, readily cast to the wayside while 

people have been scripted, either consciously or unconsciously, 

to go out of their way to make our lives an ever-greater hell.

Relying on Mother Nature for the basic necessities of life...

turning to her beautiful creatures for love, comfort and the warmth to

soothe and heal your heart, body, mind, and soul....Finding Nature at once both

accepting and rejecting, sometimes stripping your soul completely bare,

other times embracing you and lifting you higher than you thought possible.

The songs of Her Chorus... filling your heart, the beauty, the calm and peace

that surrounds you and fills your senses that the crisp air of the mornings bring,

the colors exploding all around you.... Letting Her become fully absorbed

in your bones and reaching the deepest levels of your soul.

Watching and learning from the Masters in Nature on how to survive,

 opening  your heart more, your senses come alive at Nature's touch.

By Renee Bowen

Homeless since Sept. 1, 2000

© 2011