Fallen Fallen

I had a great walk to work this morning, beautiful light. A fine scone and expresso from Delissio. Running in to a friend pulling up on her bike as she came to work. An amusing sign, "yes, SHe can" on a lawyers window. A man, asian, slightly plump, dressed in pastel golf wear: chinos, polo shirt, light jacket, but overlaid with a buddhist rosary, and some other medallions, leaning on a trash can, smoking, drinking a coke. The sight pleased me somehow. A Walgreen's supervisor in a calm discussion with a homeless man, asking for understanding.

And then as I was coming up to fifth, I saw two men. Two men who I have seen ever since I have lived here. One short, bald, older and round, the other tall, with a shock of red hair and beard, but rumpled. They were packing up their gear, sandwich boards with which they have paced up and down the sidewalk between 5th and 4th in front of the Mall and the cable turn around countless times.

One of the signs reads from the Book of Revelations (and I think it is this version the New American Standard), "Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! She has become a dwelling place of demons and a prison of every unclean spirit, and a prison of every unclean and hateful bird." I wonder if they think, having done it so long, that they thing the Lord's wrath is late in coming. If they are impatient. I always wonder what they talk about. If it is all about the sin and iniquity of the city (San Francisco, frankly, seems like it always had its share of demons and unclean spirits, what city doesn't!).

Anyway, today, as they packed up, I notice that the older man no longer moved so well. Tottered even, and the younger man took his arm with what seemed such sweetness and love that my heart moved for them and their doggedness (no pun intended). And I could only hope that all of it was motivated by love for others, and not hate.