Forgotten Soul
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I turn my head, and there she is once more
in her disheveled, worn, and tattered dress,
one pew behind me near the exit door-
she sits head bowed- an image of distress.
Two weeks now on a Sunday, she is there-
the same pew in the church, the same old clothes.
She shows forlornness that makes me aware
her life is sadly filled with countless woes.
This time, she lifts her head and looks at me,
as tears swell in her eyes and down her cheek.
My heart is broken by the hurt I see
within her wanting eyes so dark and meek.
I gaze into her face and see her fears.
With a slight twinkle in her sullen eyes
and tiny smile, she wipes her falling tears
away; but still, I hear the painful cries
that echo from her heart so silently-
her weakened body, anguished mind, and soul.
I wonder what in life could possibly
have caused her to now suffer such a toll.
And I surmise that homeless she must be.
But still, some faith has brought her to this spot
where healing strength from God might possibly
renew her spirit- when her life cannot.
The mass soon ends, and I arise and turn-
so now, in front of her, I sadly stand.
She grasps my hand and says, “God Bless, you earn
His blessings- for a heart that understands."
November 16, 2014
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014
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