"Immobile"

(Written on the evening of January 14, 2010,
Remembering where I was last Thursday night).

The battery light flashes on my dashboard.
I cringe as the radio turns off seconds later.
Gliding to a stop at the light, I restart the car,
Praying I will just make it to the repair shop.
The engine shakes, but starts, so I rev the gas,
Shifting into drive as the light turns green.

Rolling forward I push the pedal to the floor.
"Come on, baby! You can do it!" I coax.
The lights go out. The engine stops.

Panic.

Desperately I try to restart the car.
The key turns without a sound.
In fact, nothing happens. What now?

Timidly stepping out, my eyes searching;
Cars swerve around me left and right,
Filled with staring, disgruntled eyes,
Their turning signals flashing as they pass,
Avoiding the bothersome hindrance,
The irritating inconvenience--ME!

Mind racing amidst the honks, stranded,
Lost in the endless waves of car after car,
A stranger approaches and offers a hand.
Another comes, stopping the ceaseless flow,
Then pushing my immobile automobile
Off the crowded, bustling road.


My car is fine now; it all worked out,
Yet I cannot help but wonder if I,
Seeing another stuck, would stop,
Get out of the car, and break a sweat,
All to help someone I'd never met,
Someone I would never see again.

I think of the thousands in Haiti,
Perhaps even millions by now,
Shaken, desperate, in need.
I have never met one of them
(I probably never will)
Yet I cannot help, but seek to help.

I may not lift the rubble with this hand,
Yet I will give to those who can;
For even a weak and weary hand,
When united with his brother's,
Can meet an urgent need,
Can move the immobile.