Peace and Brotherhood at the Decatur MARTA Station

The Opening ceremonies have arrived and for those of us who couldn't afford the big ticket
To sit amongst the world gathered and collected tightly in that new Olympic Stadium downtown
But still wanted to participate in some way other than pressing a button on the remote control,
We've found a spot in downtown Decatur, close to my growing up place in Dunwoody,
Where even my old high school football coach shows up out of the past to shake hands
And enjoy a smile and a brief moment's return to 1975 and Dunwoody High School,
But here in the present, everything is lively but relaxed among the old buildings and the crowd
And they have tacked a bedsheet on a wall of a bank building downtown
Where everything down there in Atlanta will be broadcast later
But now we are walking around among all the people convened here to enjoy
An unusually cool Summer's evening and touch the world and let the world touch us in return.

Now we know the world is really downtown in Atlanta
And that this is just the sideshow to what is going on
Several miles to the southwest and we are curious, (Could you blame us?)
And Mark and I take a look down into the Decatur station and there's nobody down there
And we wonder how it might be several stops down the line
And we decide to take a chance and walk down to the concourse below,
The emptiness of the station echoing in our ears,
But the train soon comes and we are hurtling westward toward the big show
To see all the people and the smiles and the laughing and feel the touch of happiness,
To see Atlanta shown off to the world,
All gleaming and shining clean, and there's beer and olympic watches and t-shirts and
People from Germany and England and France and China and Japan
And all the countries of Africa and the Middle East and Russia and its neighbors
And music and lights and fireworks and hoopla! The world is here! The world is here!

Until we ultimately decide to return to Decatur where it is more restrained and peaceful,
As an older aunt might be expected to act when you visit on a cool Summer's night,
And we sit down on her frontporch to watch the evening's entertainment.
As we sit, the sheet lights up through the darkness with what is going on in Atlanta
And we see all of the youth and the older athletes and cheer the flash and the color
Until a familiar face comes out of the dark, and infirm, but proud, he takes the torch
From the pretty young American athlete from California, just a few years away from this show
But his hands are shaking from the struggle and the years and the beating of our hearts,
His and mine, nevertheless, he is taking the torch and lighting the flame
And suddenly, the stretch of years are gone for Muhammad Ali and for me, both Kentucky boys, From many years ago,
But now not separated by race or the years or the accomplishments or the years
But together again as proud Americans, enjoying the moment together

And I turn to the stranger next to me and he smiles in return,
Sharing a kinship of country and pride, though his family came from Africa
And mine from Britain, which doesn't really matter now as he says,
"God bless America" to punctuate the evening and share a moment neither of us
Would have expected, but, perhaps, is the reason we are here anyway.