Along the grid they stand in beggars clothes tattered yet dignified. This posture is unassuming and strategic.

No one notices them but the children whom stop to see the monkeys dance.

His colorful ensemble dazzles their open eyes with amusement and mystery.

They live in this joy un-wanting of more;

Living day-to-day juggling their spheres with apparent mastery.

And to those who contemplate they take care to provide for these grounded angels.

To each day they squeeze a melody from their box to resonate among forgotten lives.

Bringing hope and lifting freedom to moments, seeking to liberate our minds from thought.

With joyous remembrance of lighter colors, along the coast of our perceptions