A giant Rasta crossed my path the other day,
Brilliant colours he wore
Shone bright on the pavement of rainbow greys.
With an elegance and grace I had never seen before
So slow, sure and graceful within that Rasta’s walk
Like silk being rolled to the floor.

And I, some would say, fat white cracker dude
I was transfixed, in awe.
He spotted me looking and stood very still
With no grimace or smile
His voice broke through;

What are you looking at?
Are you looking at me?

Would he believe?
I saw the gracefulness within his movement
The proud-ness in his eyes
His spirit held so deep inside

But before I could answer,
Before I could say
This Rasta shook his head slowly
He gave me the finger
He turned. He walked away

My mind shouted. No!!
Don’t get the wrong idea

But the lights had turned to green
And the horns behind me started to sing
And life, my life must go on.

I am not a religious man
But I did pray that night
I prayed if a man has the strength to ask a question
Have the strength to wait for the answer.

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