Confessions of the Human Kind

My halo slipped

a bit today…

I judged a man

for what he wore,

without a thought,

without a doubt,

his worth, or lack of it,

for sure

I felt I knew.

His temple was in disrepair,

A shoddy remnant

of a time when

time was good

and he was strong,

that time is gone,

As is his youth.

He squared his shoulders,

smiled at me, a little smile

that spoke of shame,

Then looked away,

at better days,

 He is no stranger
to the truth.

My glance can be direct I’m told,

It’s often bold. It cuts beneath

to what is there and lays it bare

in search of truth.
I searched again, and saw it there, 

beneath the stains upon his brow

a gleaming light,
a subtle glow that’s
only seen by those who know.

I saw on him the mark of one
whom God has blessed to

breathe his air

I saw the soul
in need of care.

The truth is not a sacred cow

to trot out Sunday’s…

and talk about.

It lives and breathes
right hear and now

in that man’s plight.

His need is mine,
his joy is mine,

His life divine.
That is the truth.

Scarlett Rains

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