God's Strong Hands
God allowed him to see through their eyes,
feel their cries,
understand their plight,
with his body, but with their sight,
the alley way shimmered,
the night stars glimmered,
and the man found himself standing in a dark alley,
the stench of decaying rats,
discovered by hungry cats,
raw sewage, old smoke,
could lead anyone to choke,
as the less savory smells
hit him like a blow,
gagging, as he sensed hell,
displaying its best in show,
he steadied himself against a dirty red brick wall,
hearing the hungry call,
as he tried to keep himself from the fall,
his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness,
he glided up the alley as a shadow,
meaningless, but there,
ignored, but here,
if his shadow haven’t been silhouetted on the wall against the light,
he would have been another soul lost in the night.
People passed the alley without so much of a glance,
life gave him no chance,
as he was just another vague outline in society,
just like the abandoned crates and garbage bins all around,
he was just like garbage tossed on the ground,
his silhouette gave no clue on who he was,
just a flickering light,
from time to time just plain out of sight,
God’s strong hands seized his shoulders to steady him,
made him look at the people he once ignored,
made him understand,
that once in a while, people may need a loving hand.
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