I Yearn to be Seen

I am the sole of your shoe,

the dirt that you spit upon,

and the excrement of fish

that sinks into the silt

quickly becoming invisible.

 

I am the one who sits in the

last seat, in the last row,

who never says a word, or joins

a group, or makes any sound,

trying to be invisible.

 

I am the one that you never see,

even when you brush against

my back or shoulder in a crowd,

the one that you never grace with

a smile, for I am invisible.

 

I yearn to have a friend of my own,

someone who shares secrets with me,

holds my hand, carries my books,

asks for my phone number, so that

I will no longer be invisible.

 

I am tired of sitting alone, day after day,

munching on my cardboard lunch

while others around me joke and speak

of adventures of which I will never know,

for I remain invisible.

 

I ask for your attention, your time,

which you so willingly give to your

chosen few, the “in crowd,” those that

raise your status, your time card, but

not me, for I am invisible.

 

I beg you to stop just once and ask

my name, to hold the door and let me

enter first, to invite me to join your group

for lunch, or to be my partner, to wipe away

my cloak of invisibility

 

so that I may be seen for who I am,

a child of God

a blessed soul

a friend in waiting

Holiday Blues

What do you tell the children

who find no quarters under their

pillows – the missing gift of the

tooth fairy – when the proper

homage has been paid?

 

What do you tell the sad little girl

whose stocking is empty

Christmas morn – after leaving the

last cookie and a small cup of

milk – the thanks for the Santa

who never came?

 

What do you tell the young boy

who has no basket to leave on

the table – decorated with colorful

paper eggs and filled with shredded

newspaper – and all that’s inside are

a few stale jelly beans?

 

What do you tell the teenager

whose fifteenth birthday came and

went – with no party, no gifts, no

happy times – to mark the majestic

coming of age?

 

What do you tell the lonely ones

who never get a heart-shaped card

or candies – a sign of friendship and

love – who had only wished that just

one person would care?

 

What do you tell the children

who have no masks, no quirky

costumes – in celebration of All

Hollow’s Eve – and so can’t knock

and threaten tricks?

 

What do you tell the little ones

who have no feast to cram into

their mouths – in honor of those who

survived – and so bite into stale

peanut butter sandwiches?

 

What do you tell all the unloved

children, young and old, who rise

day after day – wanting nothing more

than a gentle hug – and receive

harsh words instead?

 

For some children have everything

they could ever want while others

have nothing but emptiness – no

hope for more – the rejoicing washes

over, leaving not a drop of joy.

 

Let us cry for them

And then pick up our mantle

Of gentleness and offer whatever we can,

Whatever small bit of joy

Lurking in cabinets and pantries

Deliver it to a charity

Where we can witness the joy

That abounds in simple giving.

Holy Time

there is only here and now

and the once was and the soon to be

the should be, the could be, the might be

joined together, past, present, and future

blending into seamless time

beginning at the beginning

stretching off into the eternity

marching in a straight line

from time before all records were kept

pointing to time unknown

 

dropped in, snuggled in, squeezed in

human beings alter the universe

irrevocably

jumping barriers

leaping across boundaries

in pursuit of dreams

quests for an unholy grail

chasing illusive butterflies of chance

that change predetermined destinies

altering time forevermore

 

some keeping meticulous track

of minutes

days

months

years

 

while others intentionally forget the done

glossing over the finished

as if brushing off flies

for by shedding the past

the future lies

untarnished

unblemished

 

shining bright as the star that led

the Magi to Bethlehem

in search of

the One who would be

the only here and now

To Truly Know God

To know God,

to truly know God.

That’s what I want more

than anything.

 

He’ll come to me as a friend

and sit by my side.

He’ll sing to me of love, joy,

and inner tranquility.

 

He’ll tell me what a godd person

I’ve been all my life

and how pleased He is with

the paths that I have chosen.

 

When tears run down my cheeks

He’ll wrap His arms around me

and hold me tight, not letting go

until the shuddering subsides.

 

We’ll share cool water,

homemade bread and a bowl

of fresh fruit picked off trees

in my backyard.

Before we begin we’ll bow heads

and offer thanks for

all the good and kind people in the world,

for peace, for love and for self-acceptance.

 

When He bites into the apple

and juice runs down His chin,

I’ll snap a photo and we’ll laugh.

He’ll take a picture of me smiling

so that I may treasure it forever.

 

After our meal I’ll invite Him to spend

the night. We’ll have a slumber party

with popcorn and a G-rated movie.

He’ll sleep in my bedroom.

I’ll be on the couch and when I close my eyes

I’ll sleep more soundly than I’ve ever

slept in my life.

 

In the morning He’ll wake me

with the warmth of His smile.

I’ll tingle all over and even after

hours have past, I’ll recall the happiness

that spread throughout my body.

 

Before He leaves He’ll pull

me aside and whisper

like a gentle breeze, but I’ll hear Him

say He’ll be my best friend forever.

 

Heavenly Meal

Feed me a soul-satisfying meal

Krispy corn flakes will not seal the deal

 

No rib eye steak with golden fries

No onion blossom to greet my eyes

 

Chicken enchiladas?  Surely not.

Or even hamburgers nice and hot.

 

What I really need comes from afar.

Can’t be retrieved by plane, boat, or car.

 

Please give to me a thoughtful caress

Given simply, without duress

 

Prepare for me a heavenly dish

Designed to nourish every wish

 

Mix in prayers for a peaceful life

Whip forcefully to erase all strife

 

Today I need to stuff in my face

Food that is filled with amazing grace

Freedom

Fortune laughs in the old woman’s face

Shuffle all that’s left of dancer’s grace

Wrinkled arms that once would fling and flay

Hang heavy and refuse to obey.

 

Her heart, weak and constantly famished

Cries for her torture to be finished

No longer she yearns for love to feel

Instead waits for heaven’s bell to peal

 

Eyes as tired as Victorian lace

Blinded to God’s everlasting grace

Steal bindings encircle shriveled chest

Restrict the ability to rest

 

In hardened bed of thorns she reclines

As witness to loneliness she pines

With every sinew, bone and ounce

She besieges Master Death to pounce

 

Oh please, oh please, Lord do me allow

To end this torturous life right now

I’ve lived my life as best as I could

Upon my principles I have stood

 

There is nothing now that I regret

Except for people I did forget

Forgive my sins, for I am weak

Give me the release, which I do seek

 

Then with smile upon her wizened face

She experienced God’s loving grace

Flying free of her skeletal frame

She joyously sand out God’s name

 

Remove My Cloak

I am the sole of your shoe,

The dirt that you spit upon,

And the excrement of fish

That sinks into the silt

Quickly becoming invisible.

 

I am the one who sits in the

Last seat, in the last row,

Who never says a word or joins

A group or makes any sound,

Trying to be invisible.

 

I am the one that you never see,

Even when you brush against

My back or shoulder in a crowd,

The one that you never grace with

A smile, for I am invisible.

 

I yearn to have a friend of my own,

Someone who shares secrets with me,

Holds my hand, carries my books,

Asks for my phone number so that

I will no longer be invisible.

 

I am tired of sitting alone, day after day,

Munching on my cardboard lunch

While others around me joke and speak

Of adventures of which I will never know,

For I remain invisible.

 

I ask for your attention, your time,

Which you so willingly give to your

Chosen few, the “in crowd”, those that

Raise your status, your time card, but

Not me, for I am invisible.

 

I beg you to stop just once and ask

My name, to hold the door and let me

Enter first, to invite me to join your group

For lunch, or to be my partner, to wipe away

My cloak of invisibility

 

So that I may be seen for who I am,

A child of God

A blessed soul

A friend in waiting.