Wednesday, October 24, 2007

A Cry from One who Wanders the City Street

Something unusual happened to me that caught me complete by surprised. A block south of the Washington Monument (the original one in Baltimore) on Charles Street, I was stopped by a homeless man who didn't want food or money. He said that since accepting Jesus as his Lord and Savior, the Lord has been providing for all his needs. All he wanted was a hug. He explained that because he has AIDS, he has not had any human touch in a very long time. But he assured me that all his sours are currently healed so I am not endangered of contracting the disease from him.

As I hugged him, he broke down and started crying streams of tears. At which point, he broke off our embrace because he didn't want any of his body fluid to get on me. Suddenly, he quickly ran off.

Although I constantly keep an eye out for him when I'm in that neighborhood, I never saw him again.


No longer does tomorrow exist for me,
Just the recurrence of subsequent todays,
Because hope is tomorrow's admission fee;
And mine is buried beneath a hundred clich├ęs.

Tell me I'm more than the sum of body parts.
Tell me I'm not reduced to nothing by my sorrow.
Open your arms and share the warmth of your heart.
Rekindle my soul to see again tomorrow.

Monday, October 15, 2007

City After Midnight

Due to the unusual hours that I keep, I, often, go shopping after midnight at 24-hour a day supermarkets and drugstores. Several nights ago, during one of my late night shopping trips, I saw a sight that broke my heart. I've been thinking about it since. I finally decided write about it.

Cruel is the lonely city night
Blind to the misery of the sight.
The sparse traffic passes
But doesn't see, doesn't hear, doesn't feel
The desperation of their plight.

On the corner where McCulloh and MLK meet
Hunger hangs heavily on the faces of the street.
Two hours past midnight,
A little girl and her grandmother
Are begging for something to eat.

What does it take to make things right?
A five was all that I can spare, tonight.
As I pull away
I see no tear being shed
By the blinking traffic light.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

In the Service of our King

Depart, if you seek the glories of war.
It is not what this march is for.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

We march long and hard among the deads
Down this nocturnal road where evil treads,
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Meals of only His wine and bread.
In remembrance of his thorn crowned head.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Charges of dragoons and snipers' fires
Laid our comrades on funeral pyres.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Howitzer fires, and shrapnel and flak
No artillery piece could turn us back.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Belt, breastplate, helmet and shield
Protect us in the potter's field.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Our weapon is His Spirit's sword
The Word of God which can't be ignored.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Tempted to give chase when we pierced their flanks.
The line, we hold steady, we don't break ranks
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

Patiently we wait for His trumpet's call
When we finally charge and take it all.
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.

We march long and hard among the deads
Down this nocturnal road where evil treads,
Commissioned we are
To serve
In the Lord's advance guard.