“To Louise”

Friends, I’m a bit behind on things.  I’ve been asked by a friend to be a beta reader for the manuscript of her novel.  In a word, the novel is “thunderous” and in four words “a joy to read.”  I’ am very impressed.  But there’s simply not enough time for me to do everything well, so no special Feature Friday today.

But, I am not without a gift.  This is to you friends.  Actually its not.  Its to Louise.  But if you read it, I don’t think he would mind.  I met Louise on a mission trip in Memphis where on the last day, we were told to hit the streets and fine someone to share the gospel with over lunch.  We found a homeless man named Louise who we fed physical food, spiritual food, and got him a haircut, shave, facial, Bible, and a laying on of hands.  Well actually Christ did it all.  He brought the money, us, Louise, the city, all of it together.  As it says in Hebrews 1:3: He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.

I wrote a poem about our encounter and I think it would be good to share it with you all.  So enjoy and have yourself a blessed weekend!

 

To Louise

 

Just two hours ago, you were dead.

Gray eyes fixed on nothing,

wrapped like a corpse

in your dingy green parka.

Every day just moving, moving.

You could have been snuffed out

by a cold.

 

We had about five hours

to go and find someone to share IT with.

In Memphis, the main goal

was to confront prejudice

that was so rife here even after MLK.

You were ours.

 

Decent Mexican food,

You gulped yours down.

Everybody looked at you

like you were inside out.

They couldn’t figure it out, it was them

who were poor.

 

But there was still time left.

We booked you a slot in that black salon

we were told not to go near.

With latex hands they shampooed you

and carefully cut through yellowed tangles

beard and all.

 

And out of charity, a free facial.

Expensive creams that lifted all the grime out.

You looked so peaceful, we chuckled that

you had died in joy, level with the square tiles

and that warm, wet washcloth over your face.

There was only a hole left for your nose

to peek out.

 

Then we had to leave you

send you back onto the streets

with a shiny face, a new pocket sized Bible.

I knew you had a good face underneath it all.

Three hugs and goodbye too soon. Far too soon.

I looked back and I saw you with chest and chin out.

Moving, Moving, Moving!

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2 Responses to ““To Louise””

  1. Speechless on more than one level. Blessings on your gracious head.

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