A Strength Through Need

I see a man with outstretched hand
A needy man, a sorry soul
And yet he smiles a kind of smile
That almost fools my will.

I pass him by and think a bit
I've come a very long way now
To reach this state of knowing how
And owing not to any man
I need no help, nor give I help,
I simply get along.

To stretch my hand may be a sign
Of weakness or of trouble
So I'll protect this very thought
And show no outward sign of doubt.

A man of means I have become
Through years of work, some full of worry
It takes my time to stay this path
And steady on it now my mark.

I've seen a lot through mid-life eyes
A vision clear, a road mapped forward
This life I have, while not the best,
My half-full cup is drink enough.

But lately, though I shut it out,
Doubt sneaks from varied places
To pierce my eyes, my ears, my mind
And leak into my pitted heart.

A poem, a song, a bird, a tree
All share in common syllables
To whisper or to shout at times,
"It's not too late to find your way".

And yet I pass this needy man
The one I say with outstretched hand
I've done this many times before
And sure to do it many more.

Then startled I by words he speaks
The ones I dread to hear the most:
"Friend, May I be of help to you?
You look as though you are in need
Your straining face begs lost or ill."

Though caught I in my tracks
I never turn
Ignoring what this fool has said.
I quickly walk, my pace now doubled.

But through my eyes the tears do start
From troubled thoughts and sudden pain
As if a friend's blow strikes my face
Or worse, a parent's blow to punish.

Upsets, this man, my stable state
My mind flows thoughts before held back
How long since last I cried at all?
How long since last I really stretched
To help those even I hold closest?

And more. How long since verse or song
Flowed out my voice or guided brush?
How long since even little prayers
Flowed from my open mouth or heart?

I have not been inclined to ask
Nor even thought I need to know.

I turn to find this man is gone
Or was he even there at all?
And so resume my walking on
My steps though not to be the same.

It dawns on me that I am cracked
And gushing through this new found path
Comes flowing pent-up thoughts and hopes
That must have grown great size within.

A lack of need great need produces
A drought to end with storms to come
And forces me to look anew
At colors on my half-done canvas.

Dare I stretch to need new loves?
Or visit old loves lost from me?
Because a man denying need
Is lost from love, both old and new.
And surely that's what topples me.

The thoughts persist that restorations
Are structured best when built on needs.
I have the time, but if I don't,
The labor sure worth working on.

Along the way I'll find that man
The one I said with outstretched hand
And never fail to ask his help
And never fail to offer mine.

This strength is odd but surely found
I wish I could express the reason:

A life by inward thoughts possessed
Is clearly not a life at all
While life by outward needs apparent
Attracts pure love and guides my brush
To fill my canvas full with beauty.