• [CHRISTIA] new poetry, "See Her Better"

    From Mark@1:396/4 to Practical Christian Life on Sun Jun 14 12:57:45 2020
    From: lamppoet@CENTURYTEL.NET (Mark)

    For the poor.

    "See Her Better"

    ("If there are poor among you, in one of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be selfish or greedy toward them. But give freely
    to them, and freely lend them whatever they need." Deuteronomy 15:7-8)

    What do I know, you know;
    what have I seen behind the screen,
    the half-closed eyes of the mother, (I assume)
    the grandmother, (yes, once again)
    those eyes, cleansed by the crying of endless
    days sitting in the same spot above the boulevard
    where passersby take the pedestrian bridge.
    Yes, those eyes reddened by countless tears;
    her face pulpy and sallow and barely seen.

    On the Mexican winter she rides on the hopes
    that those who know her will not miss her. We barely
    see beauty of cascades tipping over rocky cliffs after
    a month of walking by. So we see even less this
    disturbance to our soul
    after a week of crossing.

    Does she pin her hopes on tourists in this fishing village
    filled with spring breakers and old couple romance seekers?
    Will they see her better, covered in her native best; hues
    bleeding across the shawl and stopping at the holes worn by
    constant wear? Or did they cut their budget so close that
    dropping pesos in her cup means one night sober,
    or one less souvenir?

    Or perhaps, it is often true, there is enough left, but we
    hear the religious impulse from our idols of self-advancement,
    "You, get a job". We are jesters in the court of
    capital palaces and advancement.

    But some, hearing the words of the better God, hear words
    spoken to them, "Give. Do not let your left hand know
    what your right hand has done." And quietly,
    they slip their hand inside their pockets, grab a wad of
    what they will,
    and slightly, and sleight of hand,
    silent as they can, slide the bills into the cup
    without breaking stride.

    Milk, a roast, diapers, or one more week
    with power; the hearts of an aged widow and
    an unknown traveler meet once,
    and only once. But again love has leapt
    over hurdles and past benches of cultural inertia.


    mark p.


    Mark's Blog

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