Bad Samaritan
car door swung open
revealing her thin frame
abruptly crossing two lanes of traffic
with no care of being struck dead
he had already killed her spirit
abandoned on the side of the road
like a bitch in heat
oversized t-shirt
pants she never chose
watching his battered pickup truck
swerve away
from her battered self
oh God,
her face contorted in drawn gaping mouth
screaming eyes, wet chest heaving
sorrow, disbelief
the taxi mother
late for work
driving too fast on Bad Samaritan Ave.
late for work
driving too fast on Bad Samaritan Ave.
leaving a trail of prayer and poetry
in my dust
like handing a tissue
to a drowning soul
and telling them to wipe their nose
I recognized You
the moment
I drove away
my agenda dressed in
belt of fear
shield of self protection
vest of worry
shoes of hesitation
hiding under a hat of what ifs
wielding a sword of excuses
slashing my way through
coulda shoulda woulda guilt
anguish
angst-wish
I could go back
and gather Your Child
in my arms to calm her
drying tears that were
never meant to be
unwilling to expose My Child
to the evils of the world
when I could have
exposed
both of them
to
You
Patricia Spreng
Matthew 25: 44-45 ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’ “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’
Joining up with dVerse poets on their open link night. Come and see for yourself… the wonderful words of poets.
