Weakness

Weakness It is said that he was weak because he would not conform, could not subjugate his will, would not let them imprison his mind, cage his spirit. Weak because he stood alone and not with the milling mob. Weak, because he would not speak the words they desired to hear. Weak, because he smiled when others wept, laughed when others wailed, stood tall when others bent beneath the toil of life. They prayed for him to come to his senses and become as they. He, though he didn’t pray as they, desired the same for them. He knew that there was no strength in the coalition of the crowd, no truth in the mumbling of old truths, no love in the demands of unconditional love. He appreciated their prayers, they did not so much appreciate his. He would listen as the sound of the choir filtered through the air and caressed the trees and wonder why the vibration stopped when the hymn ended, why the sermon stopped when the preacher’s voice stopped echoing in the apse. He would sing the song in silence as he walked the village roads, roll the preacher’s words over in his mind, smile at soaring hawks and old barn cats, straighten a fence, remove a stone, bid good-day to those who thought him weak. He was not rich nor was he poor, neither wise nor foolish, he just was. And so he shared his weakness with all who thought themselves strong, his loneliness with the friendless, his thoughts with those who sought to teach him, his spirit with those who allowed their spirit to be caged. It is said that he was weak by those who never dared to share his weakness. John G. Lawless//10/15/2014 Submitted to Verlena Walker contest My shortcomings are overwhelming; however, my strengths are defeating them!