There is a spot on the platform
On the Bronx-bound side
Where you can stand
And see
The Brooklyn Bridge to the northwest,
And the Verrazano Bridge to the west.
For the past few months,
I have stood at this spot,
And contemplated this place called Brooklyn
That I have called home
These past thirty-five years.
Almost my entire life
Has been enacted here.
Homes. Apartments.
Schools. Churches. Jobs.
Family and friends.
I was brought here
When I was two months old,
And know only this borough
Like the back of my hand.
I have learned alot from living here.
I have experienced the joys of bialys.
I can understand English
Spoken in over twenty distinct accents and dialects.
I can swear in at least three languages.
I know how to melt into the background
And be inconspicuous
From riding the MTA.
I also am fearless when reading
Bus and subway maps.
I was exposed to diversity,
And the customs and cultures from myriad countries.
I hung out in the fifth-largest library system
In the Unites States.
I made special memories at
St. Joseph's College,
The Brooklyn Botanic Garden,
The Waldbaum's on Flatbush and Avenue T,
The Backweeds,
And New Utrecht Reformed Church.
My favorite neighborhoods -
The ones where I spent the most time,
And that are loaded with memories for me,
Include...
Gerritsen Beach,
Marine Park,
Mill Basin,
Bergen Beach,
Sheepshead Bay,
Gravesend,
Downtown Brooklyn,
And Bensonhurst.
Lord,
You sought me here.
Dennis spoke one night
When I was sixteen,
And I felt Your Presence
Palpable to me.
I knew You were calling me then.
Is my move now
Part of answering that call?
I tried running from You,
But you kept pursuing me.
I heard You speak
Through countless friends,
Odd coincidences,
And strange encounters.
Angels walk abroad in Brooklyn,
Masquerading as that woman
Who stopped me
From crossing Flatbush Avenue,
And being hit by a bus...
Or that insistent voice
Telling me to go to Waldbaum's
On my night off,
Only to find Yakov there,
Needing someone to help him escape
From his abusive boyfriend.
Father,
Be with me
As I reorient myself
To a new life led in Arizona.
Continue to bless
My home borough,
And all those people and places
I am separating from.
Be gracious to this place, Father,
This little corner of the world
That is so diverse,
So full of the crossroads of humanity,
And (generally) so down-to-earth.
Be near, dear Lord,
To my family and friends
As I embark on a journey
To a strange land...
But such is the stuff from which
Pilgrimages are made...
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