Saturday, April 19, 2003
This, I Understand
~
Of the poor and the preaching
And the perfect and the lost,
The sounds of the street are only
Thicker than the soot on the signs
Covered by years of sighs and
The breath of a million passers-by
And the smiles of a sinking people.
While their feet shuffle by,
The eyes of poets and
Drunks and fathers make their way
Home to offer worry and
Hope that others just might have the
Patience to pray for them,
Since they have somewhere else to be.
S*
2003.04.19
Of the poor and the preaching
And the perfect and the lost,
The sounds of the street are only
Thicker than the soot on the signs
Covered by years of sighs and
The breath of a million passers-by
And the smiles of a sinking people.
While their feet shuffle by,
The eyes of poets and
Drunks and fathers make their way
Home to offer worry and
Hope that others just might have the
Patience to pray for them,
Since they have somewhere else to be.
S*
2003.04.19
