John 7:37-39
John 20:19-23
the man sat in the hot spring sun
heat bouncing off the pavement in front of the
Greyhound depot
his pants were well worn
cuffs rolled up
and knees almost worn through
their dark green color darkened
by dirt and oil
his coat
a bit too warm for the season
was shapeless and more than a bit frayed
but wrapped around him
like an attentive lover
underneath his stocking cap
his face was burned brown by wind and sun
creased by winter storms
his hair curled wildly around his face
and deep blue eyes
bottomless like a azure pool in the ocean
peered from beneath
looming eyebrows
next to him on the bench was a backpack
army issue
perhaps Vietnam
lumpy with treasures
picked up along the way.
hands gnarled and twisted
by labor and injury
aged beyond belief
gently peeled an orange
as I passed he looked up
I braced myself for the ask
“Hey buddy, can I have…….”
and then, with a ragged voice
shaped by thousands of cigarettes
into a raspy whisper he smiled and spoke
“Praise the Lord, buddy!’
like a faithful acolyte I echoed my response
Praise the Lord!
Indeed!
as the gift of the spirit shared
touched my heart, and set it aflame
and he went back to his orange
a man at peace
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