I came this morning
Wine bottle in hand
Looking for you under the tree
By the shelter
You must have known I would come
For you moved your bags.
I think I've fallen in love.
Why would you trust that?
What might you see in me who
Put you on the streets?
"Homeless, welfare mama," we called
You in scorn.
I saw behind those eyes
Woman
And your image sleeps with me
On restless nights.
“Awake,” I tell myself, “you are
Just an unwashed pig dragging your daughter through
The gutters of Philadelphia.
You should get a job."
In my half-sleep, those uneasy eyes
Haunt me into sweats of apprehension.
Today, I finally knew I must meet you;
But you moved your home.
"Sometimes the smallest act of kindness becomes the brightest light along our darkest road."
He is one in a million--
a hand that reached out
when the world was silent,
and when kindness was rare.
Reg(Rej), though we have never met,
I feel your goodness
in the way it touched my path.
When I had nowhere to go,
you were there...
proof that the Lord sends hearts
to lift the fallen when hope runs thin!
For twenty-one nights, I walked alone
smiling at strangers…
never letting them see the weight I carried.
My knees ached,
my feet swollen,
my body trembling on the edge of collapse.
And still I told myself:
no one could run this race for me.
So I pressed forward
clutching courage in the dark,
holding on to the feeble flame of hope
that someone, somewhere
would understand without judgment.
Then came you...
A quiet proof that mercy endures,
that kindness still weaves its way through the dark
and even when the night is heaviest,
daylight will arrive.
When I finally reach my destination..
I will turn my face to the sun
and keep this treasure close:
that somewhere along the way home,
I found you...
and kept you in my heart.
You say you love me
Yet our marriage is through
There is nothing I can say
And less that I can do
You pack up your things
What’s means most to you
As you’re packing I’m begging
Is there something we can do
My words don’t phase you
There’s no merit they bare
You appear so damn heartless
And your eyes blankly stare
Your love was always there
And never let me feel alone
It’s never seen you this way
With no compassion shown
What’s happening with you
Why are being this cold
How can I sleep at night
Without you for me to hold
You believe it best I forget you
How do I forget those years
Walking out you had none
Only my eyes had the tears
Let no harsh word fall like a stone,
For every heart is tender, alone.
Give kindness first, the cost is small,
A little warmth is wealth for all.
The weary need a gentle hand,
Up high a star to help them stand.
Speak truth, but dress it soft in light,
So none are wounded in the night.
To love another is to see
The hidden flame of dignity.
No soul was meant to walk in pain,
Or bow beneath another’s chain.
If mercy grows in every place,
The world will bloom with human grace.
Let hearts be free, let voices sing,
For kindness is the thing all seek.
Receiving an invitation from the Holy Trinity,
During my childhood I developed an affinity.
I know I welcomed this communication.
From the Holy Trinity, receiving an invitation.
I learned of divine love from our Maker,
How important to be a giver not a taker.
Blessings bestowed from our Lord above,
From our Maker, I learned of divine love.
Forgiving is one aspect of compassion.
To me the hardest to accept and fashion.
A compassionate heart brings beauty to living.
One aspect of compassion is forgiving.
So I forgive, it doesn't say it's OK,
Now my inner peace will stay that way.
I am convinced it's the right way to live.
It doesn't say it's OK, so I forgive.
Helping others, care with empathy.
Offering encouragement, not just sympathy.
Letting them know when needed I'll be there,
With empathy, helping others with care.
My eyes open up like a wound
Every impossible day passes by
Loud heartbeats shadow good things
A single hold of someone could fix it all...
With the loss of my son, many people have shown me true compassion. It has even changed the way I view compassion. This is how the wonderful people in my life have shown me compassion:
Ceasing judgement
Offering hugs when appropriate
Making sure needs are met
Praise efforts to move forward
Accept that grief is a lifelong process
Speak gently
Serve in unique ways
Increase your check ins
Offer to help in any way
Never ceasing prayer
She kept walking—until emotions burst.
Weeping, she cried out in a public space,
Where no one cared enough to stop or see
The woman breaking at the corner of the road.
In her sobs, a memory returned:
A voice, a message—
New beginnings,
And a man who stood like a torch of light
In the dim glow of night.
But greed mocked her,
And laughter echoed in that cruel place—
A dungeon of fire.
Still, God sent a kind-hearted rescuer.
She was hungry, tired, and pale,
On the edge of vanishing into the day.
No food, no coin,
Just emptiness and dry hope
Wishing to leave,
To be anywhere else but there.
To connect in the world of paradise
Where in that place could she find?
Where in that place she was betrayed
Where in that place, she begged for kindness.
It's a truth that she will bring
And the hope and courage in her heart that will forever be treasured until she finds a place that she can call "home".
But not the interminably hopeless daddy longlegs
some say cellar spiders also know as the cranefly
lurking amidst the shower curtain then
flapping wildly all around my hat
just not first thing on
a Monday morning when stark staring
and uncoffeed thus it must
be duly despatched with an implement
humanely and meanwhile the water's
spraying in all directions
Later on leaving my nosy neighbour beckons
from her window and announces
there's a wet patch on the outside wall
you must have a leaky bath
you'll want to get that sorted and
I'm already late and it's the dullest
blanket grey dullest cold beans for breakfast
not that you have time for it
dead nothing morning and I wish you the best of
luck with the rest of it
**A Bird in the Hand**
From my childhood, I cherish the sweet memory of holding a sparrow in my hands. Its heart raced wildly, igniting my curiosity. Gazing into its small, beady eyes, I couldn't help but smile as it chirped and whined, pleading for freedom.
Yet, in its desperation, it bit down on my thumb, yearning to escape and explore the world. The realization struck me hard.
“Yay! You better let that bird go before it pecks your nose,” warned Nana.
That day marked a turning point; I gently released the little bird, whispering, “Up, up, and away, dear friend. I truly apologize.”
In that moment, I learned the importance of compassion and letting go.
Within the circle’s quiet pulse lies a deeper truth:
when we shape our ways by kindness, trust takes root.
The classroom holds a sacred space,
where hearts find hope, and fears erase.
Not just a room with desk and board,
But a haven where the soul is restored.
A whisper heard, a glance that sees—
Each moment sown like sacred seeds.
Mistakes aren’t marks of shame or loss,
But stepping stones we gently cross.
With open hearts, we build, we mend,
And learn that truth is not the end.
In laughter shared, in silence deep,
We hold the dreams they dare to keep.
And every child, in their own way,
Is seen, is loved, is free to stay.
So may we teach not just with mind,
but with the grace that seeks to find
the spark in each unsure reply—
and raise it gently to the sky.
This is the place where peace is grown:
where every voice is heard and known.
No harsh words echo through these walls—
only gentle care as each one calls.
The teacher’s role is more than guide,
but keeper of peace and light inside.
A sanctuary, day by day—
where hearts are shaped in quiet ways.
Isaiah 49:10 - “Shout for joy, you heavens; rejoice, you earth; burst into song, you mountains! For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.”
****************************************************************
Compassion
The prime of human virtues, Compassion,
A divine trait as Ordained in Scriptures
Leads Man to help his own kind with passion
And Paint others as brothers and sisters
Of a single race spread Across the space
Receiving same Shine of the sun apace
Enjoying same Sparks of moonlight at night
And Ignited by the same divine light
Offered by grace of the Almighty Lord
Whom to lend diverse Names we can afford.
I'll never forget the love You've shown
To my family, friends, and I
You are a God of great love and compassion
The deepest love one could not deny
I shall stay and wait upon You Lord
Sing Your praises all day long
Lord I am not worthy of Your love
With Your love I can't go wrong
“Pray without ceasing; in everything give
thanks; for this is God’s will for you in
Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5;17-18.
The hands of compassion echo
kindheartedness like Christ conveyed.
To the Good Samaritan’s mind,
cost discounted; duty outweighed.
In disparate worlds without slurs
the hands of compassion echo.
It matters not where needs occur;
they’re unique, unlike art deco.
They are hands that go way beyond
never grabbing, never gripping;
the hands of compassion echo,
off’ring help for someone slipping.
To make the diff’rence in God’s sight,
always pray, give thanks and check - "Oh
that we could know His perfect will!"
the hands of compassion echo.
Discipline
is not the gash,
it's the flame
you agree
to reside beside.
It requires the band
to be held taut tight,
in an unrelenting
challenge of will.
It is not the strength
of demands
that keeps it switched on,
but resilience in wake
of striving.
Having compassion
for slips of self
is not surrender
nor judgmental.
It's the little gives
that firms the grip
to tug in light
of flame.
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