Tuesday, December 17, 2013

It's Christmas And I Can See Their Faces

I sit here and see their faces—
One by one they march by—
Troubled, tear-stained, open-mouthed. Desperate.
What can I do to help?
Of course it’s a male thing—we have to help.
But no.
As they march by slow and weary—
I reach back in memory and remember other days—
When the sun was high in the sky and we laughed and ran
   and loved it all.
Nights when we drank or smoked or argued  and just enjoyed being as one.
What can I do to help?
No much.
We live too far away—
   Phone calls, books and notes are too fragile vessels to carry
   our love and care.
And so I pray.
Does it matter?
Who knows?
But I pray—believing—half-believing--somehow out there
   where they live and go through the motions of the day—
   a lightness will come to their heaviness
   and a glimmer of hope will find a way into their hearts.
                                            --Roger Lovette

                     -- rogerlovette/rogerlovette.blogspot.com 

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