Jesus still saves . . .

When you ride your bike down the path of the Atlanta Streetcar, a sign that says Jesus Saves peers down at you from a church steeple. There is more I’ve noticed during these past three years (see my photo essay, titled A Streetcar Named Aspire). Despite all the change that’s in the air, here’s a little poem about what still persists out there.

Jesus Still Saves

Jesus still saves;

Women still twerk;

Men still hurt in Hurt Park

Without homes, without work;

The Oldest Shop still stands;

The Rib Shack’s still red;

Folks still go to the Curb Market

To buy pigs, to be fed;

Heros still rise;

Hunger still looms;

If you want to ride Streety,

There’s still lots of room;

The most popular stop is still Centennial Park,

But most spots on the route

I still wouldn’t walk after dark;

Sweet Auburn’s still famous;

Ebenezer’s most known;

But it seems that no one

Ever gets Luckie at Cone;

There’s still a bit left

Of the mural with fire,

And shops still open with hope

As the streetcar aspires;

Three years have now passed

And people still stare

When they hear the ding ding

Of the bell in the air.