Chosen Ones

Somewhere Light is streaming in

The rooms of indifference

And shadows flee and warmth touches

The hopeless ones.

Somewhere Love is blanketing

The wounds of neglect

And bleeding ends and healing touches

The hated ones.

Somewhere Grace is rippling through

The pools of ignorance

And killing stops and God gathers

The homeless ones.

©March 2003

For me, poems are the way I express how life affects me.  I may not consciously be thinking about anything, but there’s a nagging feeling or pull on my heart.  If I am busy, I might not notice it is there, but when things are still and I am quiet, the poem seems to push it’s way out.  That’s what happened here.  This poem started because I found myself thinking about my Dad.  I missed him.  I thought of the images of the war in Iraq.  I felt saddened for the people and for myself because I am so shocked at what we, as human being are capable of doing. 


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